


Time

by JayceCarter



Series: Soulmates in the Wasteland [7]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Dark, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, Rape Recovery, Smut, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Fahrenheit suffered beneath Vic's rule until Hancock killed him, but she discovers surviving is easier than moving on with her life with her new mate.Vadim wants to help his mate, but when the best thing he can do is leave her be, he worries he'll never be able to help her.Can they create a life together or will Vic destroy it even though he's long dead?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is very triggering for anyone who has issues with rape/noncon or abuse. I struggled with how much I wanted to tell of it, but decided to do this much because it seemed like the right amount to really show why Fahr and Vadim are where they are later. Chapter one is about Vic and what happened. Chapter two and beyond focus on recovery. 
> 
> Also, This story takes place in the Soulmates world. Chapter one is clearly prior to the events in the series, chapter two is retelling during parts of 'Expectations' and chapter three and beyond is after that story, just so help with the timeline. 
> 
> OH, and Farrah is Fahrenheit's original name in this story. :)

Farrah could taste violence, like over seasoned, rotten meat. Something someone tried to make better, but couldn’t hide the ugliness. She’d lived with it long enough to know when it was coming.

 

Vic was having one of his days, the sort when he started drinking the hard shit upon waking up. He’d rolled over, leaning over her as he grabbed vodka from the nightstand. He wasn’t a morning guy, which meant she loved the mornings.

 

He left her alone in the mornings. He didn’t grope her, didn’t bother her. As long as she stayed quiet, he left her be until at least noon.

 

But the way he poured that liquor down his throat told her trouble was coming, and she wasn’t gonna like it.

 

The boys were no better, all Vic’s men prowling around, looking for a fight. A few even tossed looks her way, the idiots. That never went well.

 

If there was one thing anyone could say about Vic, it was that he was possessive. He didn’t share what was his, and he’d decided years before. Farrah was his. It meant if he caught any of them looking at her with that gleam in their eye, they’d be likely to lose it. He’d killed more than a few the first year or two for tiny slights like that.

 

After running his errands during the late morning, he’d headed back to the Statehouse.

 

Vic grabbed her hair in a tight grip, tipping her head back and taking her mouth in a rough kiss, hands groping, though she didn’t pay attention. Easier when she didn’t. The touches didn’t mean a thing to her anymore.

 

He pulled back and grinned, turning back to the men of his in the Statehouse. “Think it’s time for a party tonight, don’tcha boys? Been quiet too long. You all can blow off some steam, find some tail, bring ‘em back. We’ll get nice and drunk and have ourselves a hell of a time.” He twisted to face Farrah again. “What do you think about that, sugar?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Had two words ever sounded so empty?

 

Hours later, she sat in Vic’s bed, waiting. Her life consisted of waiting. Waiting for him, waiting for him to leave, waiting from him to get off. Always waiting. The books he left for her didn’t help pass the time, not really. If anything, the reminded her of what she wanted to be. Not in the damsels who waited for some asshole man to save them. Nope, fuck them. She wanted to be the hero. She wanted to save herself. She wanted to be strong and powerful and basically fuck shit up.

 

But then Vic would walk into the room, all muscle and anger and power, and she’d be that damsel again.

 

She missed John.

 

Just thinking about it had her shuddering. He’d become her only friend, and he’d almost been killed for it when Vic had found out. He’d been the only one brave and stupid enough to help her after Vic had split her lip and broken a rib, to give her a stimpack and clean her up. But that was months ago. He and a bunch of others had disappeared, probably headed for greener pastures, and she couldn’t blame them.

 

If she could run, she would have.

 

Vic wouldn’t let her run, though. The one time she had?

 

Farrah’s fingers slid along the deep scar over her right cheek and shuddered. No, as long as Vic was alive, she was stuck.

 

Of course, the knife beneath the mattress, the one John had given her after he patched her up, sat as proof of both of her options and her cowardice. She’d hidden it there, on her side of the bed, but had never reached for it, never touched it, too afraid of Vic’s reaction.

 

She took a deep breath, ready to straighten the place up before he returned, when a pain spread through her head, between her temples. Her knees gave out and she fell to the ground, hands catching her before her face struck the wooden floor.

 

No one went through this without knowing what it was. People grew up waiting to find their mate, for that pain that signaled the connection. Farrah’s parents had been so fucking in love with each other, telling stories about how mates were some magically connection. She didn’t believe it. Fairy tales had been beat out of her long ago, but for a moment there?

 

For a moment, when she felt someone else across that link, the surprise, the joy, the want of another person, she wanted it to be true. She wanted so fucking bad for it to be true, for her to wake up and be someone else, to have a different life.

 

She sucked in a breath when the pain started to recede, all her attention on that link, on reaching out through it, touching whoever was at the other end.

 

She never heard Vic enter until he knelt beside her.

 

“You sick?”

 

She slid her hands to her temples, rubbing to ease the residual ache. “Headache.”

 

Vic set his hand on her shoulder, and she flinched from it. Never one to be deterred, Vic grabbed her chin in a hard grip, forcing her gaze to his. “Head hurts, huh? Through the temples? You flinching when I touch ya. You got yourself a mate?”

 

She tried to shake her head, but his grip prevented any moving.

 

“Yeah, you do. Some asshole thinks he’s gonna come in here and take you away from me? You’ve been mine for a long time, Farrah, no one’s taking you away.”

 

She pulled backward, sprawling out on the ground when he let go of her chin.

 

Vic stood then, gripping the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head. “That ain’t all, is it? Not just some prick who thinks he’s gonna take you, but you think that too, don’tcha? You think some hero is gonna walk into my town and take you? You’re mine, Farrah. Only way you’re getting away from me is when one of us is dead, and I’m putting my money on you croaking first. Thought you figured that out when you ran, when I had to cut that pretty face of yours as a reminder. Never said you were smart, though, smart ain’t why I keep you.”

 

“So why do you keep me?”

 

Vic began to work the button of his pants, the slow show he always did, just another game to remind her he didn’t have to hurry for shit. “Why? Because you’re mine, Farrah. Always will be. Fuck, I think you’ll be mine even after we’re both dead. Now, I said tonight was a celebration? So come on, sugar, I plan to celebrate. Let that fucking mate of yours feel it before he gets here and I kill him.”

 

#

 

Vadim had never moved so fast in his life. He’d had a few minutes after the link formed for calm. His mate had reached through that bond, hesitant but hopeful.

 

Then it had all gone to hell. He’d left Yefim without a word, grabbing his armor, his guns. He wasn’t a fighter, not anymore, but he could take care of himself when he needed to.

 

And getting to his terrified mate was such a time.

 

The link told him she was North East. Judging from distance, he’d guess Goodneighbor? He’d figure it out as he got closer.

 

Something was wrong. This wasn’t panic at finding a mate. This was fear, pain, shame, so many things twisting together his feet struggled to work, but he pushed past it. Whatever he felt was a fraction to what she experienced.

 

What was wrong? Why couldn’t he go faster?

 

Another wave of pain and nausea struck him, so Vadim did the only thing he could.

 

He ran faster.

 

#

 

Hours later, Vic laughed beside Farrah, a bottle of whiskey in his hands. She’d curled in on herself, knees to her chest, back to him, just trying to ignore the pain.

 

It wasn’t even the physical pain. That shit she’d learned to deal with. Sure, Vic was rougher than usual that night, wanting to teach her some lesson, but physical pain was easy to handle. It was the shame she couldn’t shake. Her first connection with her mate and it was that? It was him on the other side of the link while Vic raped her? How could she ever look her mate in the eyes? How could she ever face him? He’d know how useless she was, what she really was. It wasn’t like she could pretend, like she could start it over. He knew everything.

 

And she would face him. That was clear as he got nearer, having had to make the trip at a dead run to account for the distance he’d covered in so short an amount of time.

 

Vic’s boys sat downstairs, fucking and laughing and drinking, all damned close to passing out. She didn’t need to see them to know it; she’d seen this enough times.

 

Vic’s hand slid down her spine, fingers brushing every vertebra. “I don’t know why you’re so fucking special. Fuck knows other girls are prettier, but you? You’re something special. Wonder what that mate of yours is like. Doesn’t really matter. The second he gets here, into my city? I’ll kill him. First, I want him to see you, though. I want you to see him. I want you to remember the moment he dies, in case you’re stupid enough to start thinking about heroes and fairy tales again. Trust me, all men are exactly like me. Even if you escaped me somehow, your mate would be the same. The only difference? Some of ‘em are tough enough to survive and some of ‘em ain’t, and trust me, I’m the toughest. Should thank me for it, Farrah, because I keep you safe.”

 

Vic grabbed her hips, rolling her to all four. Farrah didn’t resist, lacking the strength to do so. Downstairs, however, the sounds died out. The laughter died away, replaced by silence.

 

And violence. The same thing she’d tasted that morning, seeping through the house. She felt it, knew it, even Vic ignored it. The asshole never paid enough attention.

 

Farrah tried to focus on the space two floors down, where Vic’s men were. She didn’t care if they all died, but anyone to kill them was a risk to her.

 

Vic ran his hands over her sides, her hips. She wanted her skin to peel off as he touched her, wanted it to boil and burn away, to leave nothing behind, to leave nothing of her behind. He always touched her with this sick adoration. Even when he hurt her, he looked at her like he was training a dog, like he loved her but had to do it. “Tell me you love me, Farrah.”

 

He asked her that, sometimes, when he’d gotten too drunk to realize how fucking pathetic that was. She’d always do it, too. She’d tell him she loved him because fighting it, and him, never made fucking sense and Farrah liked to make sense.

 

That night, though? With her mate across the link? The words wouldn’t come.

 

His hands tightened on her waist. “Tell me, Farrah.”

 

“Fuck you, Vic.”

 

He froze behind her, before his chuckle had her starting to struggle. “This because of that fucking mate, isn’t it? Think he’s gonna show up and stop this? Let him feel this, huh?” He pressed into her.

 

And Farrah was done. Her hand reached down, grasping for blade John had given her, the one hidden beneath the mattress.

 

Vic laughed harder as he pushed into her, then bent over her, gripping her hair. “Squirm all you want, doesn’t do a fucking thing.”

 

Farrah’s fingers closed around the blade before he yanked her upright, so her back pressed against his chest. She didn’t bother with saying anything, with some stupid quip, with anything. You don’t show your hand. When you pull a weapon, you plan to fucking use it. Don’t play games, because games’ll kill you.

 

She swung to blade back and buried it into his side, near his stomach.

 

He didn’t scream, only released an annoyed grunt and pulled out of her, moving away.

 

She kept her fingers wrapped around the handle of the blade so it slid from his side. She rolled to sitting, holding the blade between them.

 

A harsh laugh came out as he pressed a hand over the wound. “Never figured that from you. Oh, how you’ll pay for that.”

 

Farrah swiped the knife at him when he came closer. He wouldn’t touch her, not again. Never again.

 

Her mate was close. Maybe even inside the gates of Goodneighbor. It made her want to run, but she stayed in place, blade pointed at Vic.

 

Bullets from downstairs echoed to their room, a barrage of them that said hell had broken lose.

 

“Oh, fuck.” Vic turned, ignoring Farrah. He yanked on a pair of pants and grabbed his pistol from the table. He grabbed an armored jacket and threw it at Farrah. “Put this on and get under the bed. Don’t come out until I tell you to. We’ll deal with your bullshit later.”

 

The firing down stairs had her following the order. She slid beneath the bed just as the door opened. Whoever stood there opened fire with a shotgun. Vic’s body flew backward, landing near the foot of the bed. Blood poured from his wounds, following the wooden floor. Farrah tried to scoot away but soon had nowhere to go. The blood pooled beneath her.

 

She shut her eyes, trying to keep her breathing even, as someone grabbed Vic’s body, dragging it from the room, leaving her alone in the puddle of blood.

 

#

 

Vadim raised his hands as the ghoul pointed a shotgun at him. “I do not know Vic. I am from Diamond City.”

 

“Yeah, Vadim, I fucking know you. Hell of a night to show up in Goodneighbor.” The ghoul dropped the gun, tucking it beneath his arm. “What are you doing here?”

 

“My mate. She’s here, somewhere. She’s hurt.” Her pain had been beating at him, her panic dropping into hysterics. He couldn't focus, itching to get into the Statehouse, to find her. 

 

“She’s in the Statehouse?”

 

Vadim nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Has to be fucking Farrah. We haven’t found her yet. Come on, let’s find her. Name’s Hancock, and I’m gonna warn you to keep your god damned hands where I can see ‘em. In fact, put these on, asshole.” Hancock tossed a pair of gloves at him.

 

Vadim put them on as he ran, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the top floor. He followed the link into a bedroom, to find blood covering the floor. He pointed at the bed.

 

She had to be beneath it.

 

Vadim crouched at side of the bed, catching sight of a foot tucked beneath it. He wrapped his fingers around that ankle and pulled her out. He’d rather have done it easy, but her mind was a wreck, nothing but pain and fear. She’d never have responded to anything else.

 

She struggled, kicking her other foot out, but he avoided it. Bare legs, covered in blood, appeared.

 

Fuck, she was naked.

 

No, not quite. An armored coat hung over her. He pulled it around her, covering her, while he pulled her into his arms, careful to avoid any skin to skin contact.

 

She struggled against him, shaking and sobbing.

 

Hancock knelt beside him, syringe in hand, before he injected it into her arm. She slowed, then fell unconscious in his arms.

 

“What’s her name?” Vadim ignored the blood soaking into his pants as he ran his fingers through her hair.

 

Hancock remained beside Vadim, gaze shifting between them. “Farrah.”

 

“The man lynched out front, hanging from the balcony? Were they. . .”

 

“Nah. Asshole kept her like a personal plaything. Shoulda stopped it sooner, but I couldn’t.” The loads of shame and regret in his voice made Vadim like the ghoul a little more. Hancock reached toward her. “Probably should take that blade away from her before she wakes up. She ain’t gonna be too happy, and judging from the knife wound in Vic’s gut, she already stabbed one man tonight.”

 

Vadim stood, holding her against him. “Don’t touch her. Let her have the knife. She's earned it. Where can I take her?”

 

Hancock nodded. “This way, brother. But, let me make something clear, yeah? You don’t lay a fucking hand on her. Girl has been through too much already and she doesn’t need to be tied to a mate right now.”

 

Vadim carried Farrah to the room Hancock led them to and settled her on the bed. Hancock returned with a bowl and rag, setting them on the nightstand.

 

“Why are you trusting me with her?” Vadim stood beside the bed, looking over his mate.

 

Hancock shrugged. “Because you may be an asshole, but you ain’t the type to hurt a woman, especially not your mate. Remember what I said, though. She ain’t ready for a mate bond. You touch her? You seal that bond? I’ll kill ya myself. We clear, brother?”

 

Vadim nodded. “Yes. We are clear.”

 

Hancock nodded and walked out, shutting the door behind him, leaving Vadim alone with his mate. She seemed small, though he knew she wasn’t. She was underfed, her joints sticking out sharply. Her face had bruises, more of them on her hips. He’d caught sight when he’d wrapped the coat around her. Long red hair was loose, and would reach the middle of her back if she stood up.

 

And blood covered so much of her.

 

He sighed, then picked up the rag and sat beside her.

 

#

 

Farrah woke, gasping and pulling away. She stumbled to the floor, getting her feet beneath her.

 

Vic was dead. She knew he was dead, remembered that like a basic truth she could never forget. She’d stabbed him, then someone shot him.

 

He was dead and gone and she had no idea where she was.

 

“Easy, there.” The deep voice had her twisting around and holding the knife up.

 

Why did she still have the knife? Why hadn’t someone taken it away?

 

The man sitting in a chair across the room stared at her, and for the first time she realized, he was her mate.

 

Farrah tried to cover herself until she looked down. Someone had put a large shirt on her and had cleaned her. The blood she’d been laying in was gone, wiped away from her skin.

 

“Who cleaned me?” Her voice came out weak as she began to shake, thinking about someone touching her while she was passed out. 

 

“I did. I didn’t touch you, though." He showed his hands, covered in gloves. "I thought you would feel better if you woke not covered in blood.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

“My name is Vadim. I own the Dugout Inn in Diamond City, along with my brother. John Hancock killed Vic and all his men. He’s mayor now, says he’s a friend of yours.” He didn’t move, staying in the seat like he thought it would help.

 

But nothing helped. Nothing ever would help. She slid down the wall until she sat, unable to look at him. He knew too much, and she hated it.

 

She folded her legs, and in doing it, spotted Vic’s dried come on the inside of her upper thighs. It drew a gag from her. How many times had she cleaned up afterward? Too many, but this time? This time was worse, somehow.

 

“Bowl is beside you with a rag. I didn’t think it was right for me to clean anymore of you. I did not want to leave that on you, but touching you like that seemed wrong after. . .” His voice drifted off.

 

She twisted so her back was to him, then took the rag and began to scrub at the inside of her thighs, desperate to get it off her. Her skin turned red as she scrubbed, needing it off her, needing to feel clean.

 

Fuck that, she’d never be clean, and now her mate knew it.

 

“What can I do?”

 

“Nothing. Go away. Don’t look at me, please.”

 

His soft sigh filled the room, quiet beside the splashing of water as Farrah tried to scrub more. She lost herself in the action, everything slipping away.

 

Until Vadim’s large, glove-covered hand settled over hers and pulled it away. Blood coated her thighs, since she’d lost the rag and had started simply scraping off skin with her nails at some point. “You hurt yourself, Farrah.”

 

She pulled away, getting to her feet. The blood on her thighs was almost worse. “So? So what? How does it matter?”

 

He stood, and she realized just how large he was. She wasn’t a small woman, but he stood even taller, still. She cowered, moving backward.

 

“How can I help?”

 

“You can leave!” She walked over to shove him, but he caught her hands before she could touch his skin. “Go, please.”

 

“You are my mate. I don’t want to leave you, especially not after this.”

 

“I can’t do this. You know, you know it all. You know exactly what I am, what I’ve been.”

 

“What you are? What are you talking about?” His face showed nothing but confusion, but how the fuck could he be confused? He saw her, he felt everything. He knew, he just didn’t want to admit it.

 

She yanked until he let her go. “You know I was his whore! I thought maybe if I got a mate we could start over, but we can’t. We can’t ever start over. You know it all, you know what he did and what I did and I can’t ever fix that.”

 

“What he did to you does not make you a whore.”

 

She put her hands over her ears and collapsed to her knees. “Stop. I can’t do this. I’m not ready, not fucking ready. Go away, please.”

 

He crouched beside her but she flinched away, shaking, tears pouring down her face.

 

“You don’t want me?”

 

She shook her head. “No, I don’t fucking want you. I don’t like a fucking thing about you.”

 

He nodded. “Say my name and where I am from. I want to make sure you remember it.”

 

“Vadim. Dugout Inn. Diamond City.”

 

He ran his fingers through her hair once more, then pressed a kiss to his own hand instead of her skin. “I’ll go. I won’t come back, not unless you want me to. You know where I am if you ever want me. Yes? Tell me you understand.”

 

“I understand.”

 

He nodded, then stood. Without another word, he left.

 

#

 

Vadim stopped at the gate, Hancock beside him. “You will watch over her, right?”

 

“Course. She’s family here. We’re all family in Goodneighbor and we look out for our own. Gonna do whatever it takes to get her back on her feet.”

 

“If she needs anything, tell me. I want to help.”

 

“Much as I hate to say it, you can help her best by being fucking gone. Woman has been torn down over years and she needs to figure out how to stand on her own before she can do anything else.”

 

“And you’ll help her do that?”

 

“Judging from the way she handled that knife? She’ll figure it out on her own. I’ll just give her some pointers along the way.”

 

Vadim nodded, pulling his pack onto his shoulder higher. “Good.”

 

“Can you really stay away? Can’t say I know shit about mates, but I know they don’t head off alone by choice, ‘specially not the men.”

 

“I can if she needs me to. Goodbye, Hancock.”

 

After one more look over his shoulder, Vadim walked through the gate, leaving his mate, and his heart, behind.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Fahr lifted her lip in a snarl when her mate walked through the gates. She’d known he was coming, felt it in their link, but seeing him?

 

It brought it all back. Not just her own past, but the future she'd wanted and never got. She lifted her hand and slammed the flat of her fist against the wall.

 

No, she wasn’t that woman anymore. She wasn’t Farrah. She’d grown, changed. She was Fahrenheit, now, the woman with which no one fucked.

 

Still, seeing him walk through her city, beside two other men she didn’t know, had her ready to climb the walls.

 

What would he think of her now? Gone was that soft, weak woman. The one who shook and cried. Would he like this new her or would he run from it?

 

She’d enjoyed that, if she was honest. It had been easy to ignore that part of her, the part having anything to do with sex, when men all but ran from her. It meant while she’d gained a lot of confidence, she hadn’t had to address that issue.

 

But seeing Vadim?

 

She realized it was a topic in need of addressing.

 

She stayed out of his way, out of sight, until John asked her to keep an eye on Scarlett.

 

The VIP room was easy to listen in on, and when Vadim offered to kill John? Her back straightened, hand going to the pistol at her hip.

 

Fuck that. No one screwed with John, not even her mate. She wasn’t stupid, she knew she’d have died beneath Vic’s thumb if John hadn’t stepped up, if he hadn’t made the hard calls to overthrow the asshole.

 

She hadn’t been long from giving up at that night, willing to take death over another endless year with Vic. So, no. John was off-limits to anyone.

 

Scarlett slid past her, offering a quick smile. Fahr wasn’t sure what to think of John’s mate, but fuck, romance wasn’t exactly her expertise. She probably shouldn’t have an opinion.

 

Inside the VIP room, Vadim sat, head in his hands, shoulders slumped. The sadness floated through their link, as if his body position didn’t say it.

 

“You ever offer to kill Hancock again, I’ll slit your throat.” The threat came from her lips to easily, that rage she fell back on because she understood it. Fuck, that rage had gotten her through dark days. Nothing ever felt quite as good as that rage, as the anger, as the fighting and threats.

 

Maybe it was why she and John got along so well, that man understood rage and fighting.

 

Vadim lifted his head, face softening as he looked at her. “Empty threat. We both know, you can’t kill your mate.”

 

“And we both know that if anyone could, it would be me.” She tried for casual, leaning a shoulder against the wall and crossing her feet.

 

Why the fuck did he make her feel like this? So uneasy, so uncomfortable? He’d never given her a reason to fear him, yet her heart pounded even as she tried not to show it. She’d faced down worse threats, but he snuck beneath her defenses.

 

He stayed put, even as his eyes took her in, drifting head to toe but never leering. “Yes, we both do know that. You feeling brave? Didn’t expect you to talk to me.”

 

“You’re in my town, Vadim. Don’t forget that. Not much scares me here.” She knew every alleyway in this town, every person. This was her territory, now. With Vic, it had been his town, just risk and danger around every corner. Now? Now this shit was hers.

 

“Then you have changed.”

 

Ouch. Fahr hid the flinch at the reminder of the woman he’d seen, the one she’d been. She said nothing back because what was there to say to that?

 

“You look good.”

 

She let out a snort. “I look like shit. Try again.”

 

Fahr had no misunderstandings. She wasn’t a good-looking woman. Maybe, before Vic, there had been a chance. She’d had long, pretty hair back then, hair he’d been quick to grab and use, one reason she’d shaved most of it off and kept the rest short. She’d always been tall, prone to gaining muscle, features too sharp to be pretty. What Vic ever saw in her, she didn’t know.

 

It had only gone hill after Vic. Now? She had more blood on her than most people, a heavy piece of metal armor across her chest, hiding any sort of curves she might have, dirt streaked across her face.

 

Yeah, looking good wasn’t something she did.

 

Vadim stood, undeterred, a soft smile on his face. “You look good to me.”

 

Fucking charmer. He been hanging with John lately or something?

 

With him standing, her anxiety slipped. He was large. She was used to towering over most people, but Vadim still had a good two inches on her. Not much, but more than most people. His build followed that size, with wide shoulders and a huge chest. She swore at herself, breathing slowly to control herself before she panicked, or worse, let him know how tempted she was by him. “Why are you here?”

 

“Scarlett. My brother Yefim and I helped to raise her. Had to come and make sure she was okay. Hancock, is he safe? Is he good for her?”

 

Fucking figured. Fate did love to set shit up like that. “She’s safe as could be here. Safer than she was in your city.”

 

“I heard. I should have been there. Should never have happened.” He walked up to her, placing a hand on the wall behind her. “Many things should never have happened.”

 

It took her back for a moment to the woman he’d found beneath that bed. They’d never spoken about what happened, and she really had no desire to. What was the use of talking shit out like some therapy session? It happened, she’d lived, Vic hadn’t.

 

End of fucking story.  

 

“Don’t touch my skin,” she whispered when he leaned in. They couldn’t seal the bond or she’d be just like Scarlett, trapped to the whims of biology, and she couldn’t be trapped by anyone, especially not by some man she still didn’t actually know at all. 

 

“I won’t. I just need something.” His hand went to her waist, on the outside of her shirt. Warmth soaked through the cloth into her skin, making her want to lean into the touch. “It has been a long time. I need this to hold me over.” Tension drained from him with the tiny touch, his shoulders loosening, breath coming easier.

 

“Why haven't you ever come for me? Not like you couldn't find me.”

 

“Because you asked me not to. You were not ready.” 

 

“So? Since when does that fucking matter? Most men wouldn’t give up their mate.” Such truth. Men didn’t give up shit they wanted, not unless they had to. In that way, she’d been lucky. Some women never had a chance to turn into her, had to just accept treatment. It was why her tempter slipped so fucking much when she saw a woman bruised up. Fahr, though? Fahr didn’t mind putting down assholes. John had taught her well.

 

 “I am not most men.” He said it like it was a simple truth, but wasn’t it true? Even with as little as she knew, he wasn’t like anyone else. He wasn’t most men, and she wasn’t sure if that made her more or less comfortable.

 

He set his forehead on her shoulder, then snaked his fingers beneath her chest armor to spread them out against the center of her chest, on the outside of her shirt. The touch was intimate, but not sexual. He wasn’t groping, wasn’t trying to get her to do anything.

 

Was he feeling her breathe?

 

But, fuck, as he rested there, against her, she counted the breaths that warmed her skin from him, part of her easing at the closeness, like even though she hadn’t sealed the bond, she needed him.

 

Yeah, biology was a fucking bitch.

 

The reminder started a tremor through her, a shaking she tried to hide but failed. He pulled away. Of course the asshole caught that trembling.

 

“We will be gone again, soon. Tomorrow, most likely. Do you sleep in the Statehouse?”

 

 Her hand rubbed her chest, missing the warmth, the gentle touch. “Yeah, I do.”

 

 “Then I will sleep elsewhere. It was good to see you, Farrah.”

 

 The name had her flinched away. She fucking hated that name. No one used that name. That was the name of the pathetic thing she’d been. “My name is Fahrenheit, now.”

 

 He frowned, stopping by the door and looking over his shoulder. “Like, the temperature?”

 

 “Hancock started to call me that after. . . well, you know. I needed a new name, and he said it was perfect because I ran hot and cold.”

 

She could still remember the way he’d grinned when he’d offered it, about the time she’d gone from sobbing after a nightmare to punching him in his stupid face. She struggled with her temper, she had to admit.

 

 Vadim laughed softly. “Yes. Yes, that is a fitting name. I am glad to have seen you, Fahrenheit.”

 

 She whispered after him, so soft she wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it, but she had to say something. “Me too, Vadim.”

 

#

 

Vadim tossed and turned on the bed, eyebrows drawn together, lines through his forehead. His hands clutched the blanket, fisting it in tight grips.

 

Fahrenheit sat in the chair beside the bed, watching him. Just as he’d said, he hadn’t come back to the Statehouse, instead choosing to get a room at the Rexford. Only Vadim would do such a thing, waste good caps on a room just because he didn’t want to frighten her.

 

She’d removed her armor, so she wore only her pants, long sleeve shirt, and her gloves. Vadim’s bare shoulder showed from beneath his tank top. That small show of skin had her tongue touching her lip.

 

What would it feel like to touch him? To run her fingers over his arms, his shoulders, his chest. She wanted to, and maybe that scared her most of all. She’d spent so many years with sex as nothing in her life, the idea of even considering it scared the fuck out of her.

 

It was the last part of getting over Vic, a part she hadn’t approached, hadn’t even considered for years. She'd learned to defend herself, to take care of herself, to deal with men in everyday life, but never anything sexual. Even when John fucked his way through the town, and she saw far more than she’d ever needed to as his bodyguard, it had been some abstract thing she had no interest in.

 

Vadim was different. He made her want something different.

 

He groaned, twisting again. A nightmare. He had them at times, something she’d feel through their link. He’d bolt awake, though it slid away fast enough. Vadim never gave into sadness or fear or anything like it before replacing it with a gentle humor.

 

“Vadim,” she said, as gently as she could manage given her anxiety.

 

He jerked upright, gaze taking in the room until resting on her. “Farra- Fahrenheit? Is something wrong?”

 

“You’re only gonna be here for a night. Figured we ought to talk.” She tossed a beer at him, one he didn’t bother to even catch.

 

It fell into his lap, on top of the blanket. “This is not a good idea.”

 

“What was your nightmare about?” She put her feet up on the edge of the bed, struggling for nonchalance. Plus, feet on the bed was claiming it, right? She played her dominance games, and this was one of them. Look like the baddest bitch around and people might not make you prove it.

 

Not that she minded proving it.

 

He nodded at her. “You.”

 

“You wouldn’t be the first to have nightmares about me.”

 

He grasped the beer, twisting the cap off and tossing it onto the nightstand. “About the night I found you. About what happened before that.”

 

She took a drink of her own beer. “Yeah. Not my best moment, that night.”

 

“I wonder if I did the right thing, leaving you.” He scooted back on the bed so his back could lean against the wall, long legs stretching out in front of him. “I think back to you, hands over your ears, crying, and I wonder if I was not just a coward to leave.”

 

“I needed you gone. Had to learn to stand on my own fucking two feet. Could never have done that with you around. Besides, you really think we could have not touched if we spent time together? And I sure as hell wasn’t ready to fuck you, but if we sealed the bond? Yeah, we woulda gone there, and I couldn't. Not yet.”

 

He didn’t meet her gaze, staring at the far wall. She took the chance to really look at him. He seemed older, but still similar. When she could focus on nothing but the blood and the pain and the fear that night, it had been his face that pulled her out of it, one of the few kind faces she’d seen. Goodneighbor was full of smirks and snarls, but not the easy smile he had, the laugh lines written on into his skin.

 

“Perhaps. Perhaps I stayed gone too long. Time passes, you know? It passes quickly and we can never get it back. I think of Scarlett. I remember her, little, young, causing problems. She’d run around with a boy, one who was always trouble. He got her into trouble, but they had eyes only for each other even if neither admitted it. I warned him off her, one time, since that is my job. When he left, she never really moved on. I see them now, and I wonder of the years they lost together.”

 

Fahr frowned at what he didn’t come right out and say. “You know who Hancock is?”

 

“I may be only a barkeep, but I see things. They fight now much like they did then.” He smiled, then took another drink.

 

“So why’d you offer to kill him?”

 

“Because time changes people, and I had to be sure. Also, it reminded her what she thought of him. Mates can be difficult.”

 

“Like me?”

 

He shifted his gaze to meet hers, a lazy smile across his lips. “Like us.”

 

“You’re wrong.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“It’s not always losing time. Sometimes, it’s figuring shit out. It’s taken John time to figure his shit out, to turn into the man he is now.” She moved off the chair and slid into his lap, lifting her hands to show the gloves. “See, I wouldn’t have been ready then. I needed those years to figure myself out.”

 

“You are telling me you’re ready now?” Vadim had his hands on the bed, away from her, beer still in his grasp.

 

“Not yet, no. I’m not ready to touch, to seal the bond.” She reached into her pocket with her free hand and tossed a pair of gloves onto the bed. “But I think I’m ready to see what this could be.”

 

 

#

 

Vadim reached over and set his beer on the nightstand, motions slow, not wanting to spook her. She must have been thinking about this, since she seemed prepared. He took the gloves and slid them on. They were leather and went up to his elbows. Girl wasn’t playing around.

 

“How long have you been thinking about this? These gloves are not something you would have on hand.”

 

She took another drink of her beer. “I picked them up a few years ago.”

 

“So long?”

 

“I was looking a while before then. Not easy to find gloves like this.” She didn’t look at his face, eyes on his chest.

 

He cupped her chin with his gloved hand so she’d meet his gaze. “Why? It does not seem you planned to see me. I’d given up hope you wanted me at all. Why search for these?”

 

“Because if I had these, it made me feel like I was moving that way. It made me think I was getting better. I had started to think I’d never be myself again, so I bought them because it was a step forward.”

 

He rubbed his thumb over her cheek at the soft admission. “We are moving where ever you want, at whatever speed you want.”

 

She gulped down the rest of her beer, then tossed it into the wastebasket by the door. “Don’t touch my skin, okay?”

 

He nodded, running his hand down her cheek, fingers brushing over her throat. “I will not touch your skin.”

 

She reached down to the bottom of his shirt, grasping the hemline and pulling it up. He took his hands off her, lifting his arms so she could peel it off.

 

When the cloth covered his face, she paused, his arms trapped above his head. She froze, hands trembling. The anxiety in her increased, until it was another person in the room, something clawing to escape.

 

“We can stop.” His voice passed the cloth covering his face, keeping him blind. He wanted to see her, to reassure her, but he was trapped. Maybe that was better?

 

He’d never forget the way she looked, shaking, when he’d wrapped her in the jacket and held her. And before that? Hell, feeling her fear and pain while Vic had raped her? He’d never felt anything like that, the rage, all the impotence when he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

 

And Vadim wasn’t an angry man. He wasn’t a violent man. He was the type happy to live and let live, but right then? He’d wanted to tear apart whoever had harmed his mate.

 

At least Hancock had dealt with Vic, so no one had to worry about him again. They only had to live with all the scars he left behind. You can kill people, but it doesn’t fix the damage they do.

 

“I don’t want to stop. We’ve waited too long.”

 

“We can wait longer. Not in any rush.”

 

She leaned in and pressed her lips against his through the cloth. He groaned, hands drawing into fists above his head, but he held still. Her lips danced across his, hesitant tastes, the scent of her beer and the warmth of her breath seeping through the cloth.

 

Her tongue darted out, running against the seam of his lips. One more press of her lips before she pulled back and finished removing his shirt.

 

“Do you think we’ll ever be normal?” The question came from her on a soft breath.

 

“Does normal matter?” He placed his hands on her hips, thumbs rubbing against her. He wished he could touch her, that he could feel her warmth, but this was more than he’d ever thought he’d get. “Tell me something about you I do not know.”

 

“You don’t know much about me.”

 

“Then it should be easy, no?”

 

She set her hands on his shoulders, gripping, like testing the muscle there. “I like your voice.”

 

“Ah, but I already know that.”

 

“How could you know that? Last time, I remember telling you I didn’t like a damned thing about you.”

 

“You said ‘fucking thing,’ not damn thing, and it was a lie. So try again.”

 

She pressed her lips together as she traced his collarbone with one gloved finger. “I order your Moonshine in the Third Rail because it reminds me of you. I know you make it yourself, so I touch the bottle, and it’s a connection, because I know you touched the bottle, too. Tell me something I don’t know, now.”

 

He laughed, trying to keep his voice low, something he’d never been good at. “I ensure Charlie always has moonshine just for you. He told me once that you buy it, so I make sure to send a shipment always, just for you.” He rubbed his hands over the front of her thighs where the bracketed his body. “Also, I think you are very pretty.”

 

“Let’s not go that far, buddy. I’m not stupid. I’m taller than most men and carry more muscle than them, too. Men don’t find girls who can break ‘em pretty.”

 

His eyebrow cocked up. “I will say again, I am not most men.” He lifted his arm beside hers to showcase the difference. “You are not taller, you do not carry more muscle. You don’t scare me, and I do find you very pretty. I even like how you changed your hair.”

 

She reached up, pushing her hair back with her fingers. She wouldn’t meet his gaze again. “Vic loved my hair. He used to yank on it, use it move me around. I shaved it all off the next morning, refused to grow it at all for the first year. This is as long as I’ll wear it.”

 

His hands tightened, but he forced them loose. It was one of the first times she’d said much about that night, or the many before it which had probably gone the same. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that, don’t you?”

 

“If I thought you would, I wouldn’t be here with you. Also, you’d be dead.”

 

That fire had him smiling. Yes, she had grown. This new woman captivated him, the way she faced off the shadows in her past. People who’d never overcame anything were like flat cola, people who never really learned, who never grew. His mate had suffered, and he hated that, but he did like the strength it had grown in her.

 

“So what is it you want? Given the gloves, you are still not ready for a relationship.”

 

“I don’t know. You were just here for the first time, and I couldn’t not come and see you.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you are here. Would you consider coming to Diamond City some time? I would not force you to stay, but perhaps, I could show you my life there? Introduce you to my brother?”  The idea of introducing Fahr and Yefim had him smiling. Yefim would like her, though he liked most people.

 

“Like real mates, huh?”

 

“We are real mates. However we continue does not change what we are. Why are you so quick to dismiss our connection when I have not, and will, not push you for more than you want?”

 

“Because we’re wrong. You were supposed to be my restart. When I laid beside Vic in bed, I’d always fantasize about my mate, about running away and finding my mate and being happy, how everything would change and I would be someone else.”

 

“And now?”

 

She sat up straight, pulling her hands away from him. “You weren’t supposed to know, Vadim. You weren’t supposed to know about any of it so I could make a new start.”

 

“You think, had we connected later, I would not have still known? Those are scars you will always carry with you, and I’d still have known. I do not think less of you, though.”

 

She shook her head and pulled her hand through her hair again, anxiety filling her. “How can you not? I think less of me. You were supposed to see me different, not like that.” She swallowed hard and he could feel the need to bolt growing inside her, in the way she fidgeted, in the way her gaze darted toward the door. “My mate wasn’t supposed to see that. Even now, that’s what you see when you look at me. You see me like that. I’m better, stronger, but you’ll always see who I was, what I was.”

 

Vadim reached for her face, wanting to stroke over her cheek and assure her he did not just see that.

 

She flinched, then pulled off him. “This was stupid. I should have fucking known better than to come here.”

 

“Don’t leave, please.”

 

“Why not? I can’t touch you, can’t fuck you, can’t even talk to you. What the fuck good am I, huh?” The bitterness in her voice couldn’t be hidden.

 

Damn, he wanted to hold her. He wished he could pull her into a hug and whisper to her, but she’d never accept that.

 

“Please stay.” Vadim got off the bed. “If you leave, you might not ever come back.”

 

She hesitated at the door, shaking her head. “I can’t be what you want, Vadim. I don’t even know what you want.”

 

He walked over, steps slow, until he could cup her cheeks with his hands. “I want you, when you’re ready. So I will let you walk out of here, and I will wait as long as it takes for you to want me, too. When you’re ready? Come to Diamond City, please.”

 

“And how long will you wait for that?”

 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand even when what he wanted was to press it to her skin.

 

“As long as it takes.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Fahr stared at the huge Diamond City gates, rubbing her hands over her pants. Was she really here?

 

Part of her wanted to turn the fuck around and go back to Goodneighbor. This could be a dry run, when she came to test it out, to see what it felt like. She could go back, and John would accept her with open, high-as-fuck arms.

 

No.

 

In the time since Vadim had left, she’d struggled, pacing, snapping, unable to concentrate. She missed him, missed that voice that was always louder than it should be for the space.

 

She needed this. Vic had taken too much from her, and she didn’t want to lose any more time with her mate.

 

Still, John had told her enough about Diamond City that she wasn’t looking forward to going. She hadn’t been there ever, growing up in Goodneighbor, then staying there. She ventured out, sure. She’d been to Bunker Hill, down to Quincy before the raiders took over, but she avoided Diamond City. Those uptight assholes weren't her sort of people, and she didn't need getting herself thrown into jail over anything.

 

Two guards at the open gates had her hesitating.

 

Fuck, would they even let her in? She didn’t exactly look like Diamond City material, what with her rifle and her armor.

 

“Who are you and what do you want in Diamond City?” One guard set his hand on the rifle across him, the threat clear.

 

“Name is Fahrenheit and I’m-“

 

“Fahrenheit? You’re good, go on in.”

 

She frowned at the quick response. “I’m good?”

 

He nodded, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the gated entrance behind him. “Yeah. Vadim always makes sure we know your name. How long has that been?” He looked at the other guard.

 

“Fuck, years. Every single week he’s up at the office reminding us. Used to be Farrah, added Fahrenheit to the list a few weeks ago. We’ve had a bet going on if you’d ever show up.”

 

Fahr narrowed her gaze. “I’m going to suggest you never bet against me.”

 

The one who had spoken first grinned, lifting his hands in mock fear. “Ah, sweetheart, I got my money on you. Go on in. Vadim is at the Dugout Inn, always is.”

 

She passed him, shoulders back, walking through the gate. This might be an unknown city, but Fahr was in control no matter where she went.

 

Vadim could have the home field advantage. He’d need it.

 

#

 

Vadim laughed, slamming his palm down on the bartop. “And then I fight a mirelurk!”

 

The man across the bar laughed, taking a drink of his beer. “A mirelurk?” He mocked Vadim’s accent. “That’s a three of ten danger at best.”

 

He chuckled, wiping the counter. He enjoyed the back and forth banter with the clients, feeding on the energy of the bar, the movement and sound. It eased Vadim in a way nothing else ever did. Silence bothered him, being alone bothered him. It was worse since getting a mate, each incident of solitude only reminding him of what he didn't have. 

 

“Can I get a bottle of moonshine?”

 

Vadim grinned. He grabbed a bottle from beneath the counter and slid it to the side of the bar. “On the house. I understand you have connections with the owner.”

 

Fahr took it, not smiling, shoulders tense. Still, she was there, and that was something. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

 

He nodded. “Yefim? Would you watch the bar?”

 

His brother came over. “Yes. Who is this?”

 

Vadim didn’t answer, looking at Fahr. He didn’t want to out her if she didn’t want him to. Perhaps she'd only stay for an hour or two, and he did not wish she be badgered by anyone finding out she was his mate. 

 

“His mate,” Fahr answered before taking a gulp of the moonshine. Her words had him smiling.

 

Yefim lifted his eyebrow, gaze darting between the two. “I see. Yes, I will watch the bar. Take as long as you need.”

 

Vadim tossed the rag into the bucket before leaving the bar, nodding at Fahr to follow. They walk to the back, then into the room Vadim used as his own. He held it open for Fahr to walk in.

 

“Should I close the door?”

 

“Go ahead.” She walked through the space, gaze tracing his items. A couch, a bed, a table. He had the basics, though not much else. He’d never spent much time in there.

 

If Fahr was staying, he’d have to look into buying an actual home for them.

 

He shook his head. Don’t get ahead of himself. She was here to see him, it didn’t mean she was staying.

 

He shut the door, closing them in, but came no closer. “I am glad to see you.”

 

She said nothing, just paced through the room, continuing to take drinks of the moonshine.

 

“If you continue, you will end up passed out. I don’t know what you were hoping for from this visit, but I doubt unconsciousness was it.”

 

“You don’t know much about me, but I can promise, I can hold my liquor. Goodneighbor living teaches you a few things. Alcohol, chems, and killing are the most important.”

 

“Well then, perhaps we are not such a bad match. You are welcome to drink all my liquor.”

 

“And to think it took me this long to show up when you offer such great perks.” She moved quickly, one side of the room to the other, much like caged mutts.

 

“You do not need to be nervous. I am not making any assumptions about you being here.”

 

“I’m not nervous.” She sighed when he lifted an eyebrow. “Fine, I am nervous. Really fucking nervous. I just needed to come see you.”

 

“You don’t need to explain-“

 

“-would you shut up and let me talk?”

 

Her chastisement had him smiling. He lifted his hand to indicate she should continue.

 

“Remember our game about saying something we didn’t know about the other?”

 

He nodded.

 

“Well, I missed you. I’m tired of letting Vic control my future. He fucked up my past, but he can’t have my future. I already said goodbye to John. I don’t know what I’m going to do here, yet, but I’m going to be here.”

 

He’d never heard better words than the quiet hope she had. Sure, the anxiety, the fear, that was all still inside her. But for the first time, she wanted to try. She was there, willing to give it a try.

 

“I missed you as well. I will set up a room back here for you, and we will ensure we have gloves and-“

 

She stopped his talking when she threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss. The bond sealed, drawing a pained groan from them both.

 

Vadim didn’t return the kiss, reaching a hand out and pressing it against the wall to keep himself upright. She pressed against him, the kiss clumsy but desperate, like she knew she was a moment from panic but needed it anyway.

 

After a moment, she broke the kiss and pulled away, avoiding his gaze. “Sorry about that.”

 

Vadim caught her hand, so damned happy to touch her skin, to feel her wrist beneath his fingers. “Don’t be sorry. I enjoyed that. Though, now you can’t leave.”

 

She finally smiled, hand twisting to grab his, interlacing her fingers with his. “That’s okay. I wasn’t planning on leaving.” Her smile turned into a smirk, full of mischief. “Of course, if I get tired of you, I can just kill you.”

 

#

 

Fahr’s gaze darted around, taking in the view overlooking all of Diamond City. “So, Mayor Bobrov? How do I always end up buddied up to mayors, huh?”

 

Vadim stood beside her. “This is not what I expected. I am not good at details. Yefim deals with that.”

 

“So why did you say yes?”

 

He twisted toward her, leaning his back against the post of the window. “Because I have seen what a bad mayor can do. Between Patrick here and Vic in Goodneighbor, I could not risk another such person in power. I may not be great, but I will not cause harm.”

 

“Unless you forget to pay the bills and our lights get turned off.”

 

He smiled. “Yes, unless that. Now, if such a thing did happen, I imagine there would be many angry people.”

 

“Probably. People get pissed without power.”

 

“I likely require protection.”

 

 She laughed softly at the play in his voice. They hadn’t had much time to talk, just the two of them. He’d attempted to give her a tour, but the shots from Scarlett’s house had interrupted them. Then the chaos afterward, dealing with John, it hadn’t given them any time. Now, with the sun setting? They were alone again.

 

“Are you trying to hire me?”

 

“The city budget includes caps for a bodyguard. You kept Hancock alive, and that couldn’t have been an easy job.”

 

“That’s fucking right. Keeping someone alive who is high half the time and inside some woman the rest of the time makes for a hard job.”

 

“Well, I do not use chems, and I doubt I will be inside a woman for a very long time.” The corner of his lips tilted up.

 

“With your charm? Might be sooner than you think.” The flirting had her hesitating for a moment. Where had that come from? That easy exchange of banter?

 

Instead of pushing it, Vadim huffed a small laugh and crossed his arms. “Is that a yes to the job?”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

“And the next topic, where you will live. You have choices. You can take a room at the Dugout Inn. Yefim is there all the time, so you will not be alone, but you will have your own space. We can give you a room here, in the Mayor’s office, which is where I will be. Also, I can help you buy a place in the city elsewhere, if that is what you want.”

 

She frowned as she thought it over. She’d lived in the Statehouse in Goodneighbor, first with Vic, and later in her own room when John took over. She’d always lived around others, and being alone sounded boring.

 

“I’ll take a room here. Can’t really guard your body from across town, can I?”

 

“It would make the job more difficult.” He nodded, then nodded back toward the hallway where the rooms sat. “Left or right? I will take the one you do not want. Geneva will not be staying here any longer. She knew what Patrick had done and said nothing, which means we cannot trust her.”

 

“You kill her?”

 

“No. I exiled her.”

 

“You’re fucking soft, you know that? Should have killed her. I’ll do it for you, don’t even have to beg.”

 

“I am not going to kill innocent people.”

 

“Fuck innocent. Not many of them around, and she sure as fuck wasn’t. She doesn't deserve mercy, she deserves to get a bullet through her skull. Her going along with Patrick led to John being. . .” Her voice trailed off, not willing to say out loud what had happened, what was at risk.

 

John was bigger than life, and the idea she could have lost him? That she still might? It shook her.

 

Vadim held his arms open, an invitation she could ignore or turn down. Instead, Fahr crossed the short distance and wrapped her arms around him. He held her tight, his hand rubbing along her back. She shuddered against the foreign embrace.

 

When was the last time she really hugged someone? Sure, John and her had done the whole awkward as fuck thing before she’d left, but this? This was a real connection, this was someone there for her.  

 

He pressed his forehead to the top of her head so he could whisper to her. “John will be fine.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“Yes, I do. He recognized Scarlett, and that means he isn’t gone. He will come back, for her. Mates do that, I have found.”

 

She twisted so she could look up at him, frowning.

 

“Do not look at your mate like he is stupid. It isn’t nice.”

 

“Well, guess what? I’m not very nice.”

 

“And I should like that less than I do.”

 

She tilted her head to offer him a soft kiss, less frantic then their last. Last time it was about cross that bridge, it was about touching, about committing. This was about trying something new, about testing what she thought about it.

 

He did not remain passive, though. His lips moved against hers, mirroring her attempts, but never going further.

 

She pulled back after a moment, and that stupid, happy look on his face had her rolling her eyes so hard the fuckers might get stuck. “Oh fuck me, you’re a romantic aren’t you? I got saddled with a romantic. What’s next, flowers or some shit? Don’t expect me to go kicking up my heel when you kiss me or anything.”

 

Vadim only shook his head before walking toward the rooms, grasping her hand in a grip light enough she could pull away. “No flowers. Understood. Though, I wouldn’t count out the heels idea.” He pushed opened a door for her. “I suggest you take this one. It was Patrick’s and is much nicer. The bed is softer.”

 

“If it’s nicer, you take it. You’re mayor.”

 

He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You are my mate, so I give you the nicer room.” He didn’t wait, as if he knew the awkward goodnight dance made her nervous, that moment where she worried he might expect them to share a room, or that he’d expect something else.

 

Sure, she’d normally castrate any man stupid enough to expect something from her, but Vadim was different.

 

She sort of didn’t want to castrate him.

 

But she should have trusted him. He nodded at her and walked to his own door, pausing long enough to give her a smile. “I’m glad to finally have you here. Goodnight, Fahr.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

The next week went fast, with Vadim drowning in so many things he’d never had to do before. Details were not something he excelled at. Too many times, Yefim had to remind him to pay bills or order shipments, because Vadim preferred the more hands on areas of running the Dugout Inn. It had worked, as his brother couldn’t deal with people worth anything, but had a head for details.

 

Fahr had been by his side most of that time. She was serious when working, wary gaze taking in potential threats when they were on the move. In private, she’d lounge in a chair with good vantage points and let him work, except when she offered advice.

 

Which he listened to, because John had a hell of a lot more experience than Vadim did, and Fahr had been beside John, watching him run Goodneighbor for years.

 

The only time they argued was when her methods proved too bloody for him. They weren’t in Goodneighbor, after all. She had no issue taking out potential problems, in putting down people before they became a problem, and Vadim simply couldn’t run a city that way.

 

Not that he blamed her. He could see her logic. If someone had taken care of Vic before he got into power, he’d have barely been a stain on the city. Still, Vadim couldn’t stomach such violence.

 

“Come on, Vadim. You need to eat.” Fahr spoke from her place in the chair by the wall.

 

“There is so much to do, still.”

 

“And there will be shit to do tomorrow, I promise. Trust me, this never goes away. Doesn’t matter how many hours you pour into it, someone always wants something. Come on, you’re done.” She stood, walked over, and closed the folder Vadim had open in front of her.

 

He set his forearms on the desk to frown at her.

 

“Don’t look at your mate as if she is stupid. It’s rude.”

 

The mirror of what he’d said to her a week ago had him smiling, especially when she reached out and took his hand, pulling him to his feet.

 

She’d become more comfortable with casual touches over the past week, though the need for contact made that a necessity. Still, she’d started to reach for him, tiny, almost unconscious touches that made him smile.

 

Such small things, but things that said they were moving forward.

 

She slept in the room across the hall, and seemed to have settled in. John having recovered had helped, letting her relax further. She hadn’t made any new friends, but it seemed to Vadim, she made friends slowly.

 

“Since it appears we will have dinner, what do you wish to eat?” He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side, fingers dipping between her shirt and pants to touch her skin.

 

“I was thinking noodles. If we go into the Inn, Yefim will try to put you to work.”

 

“What about the Taphouse? I could take you to a nice dinner.”

 

“Do you even know me? I hate the fuckers in that place, and I am guessing they aren’t fans of me either.”

 

Vadim pressed a kiss to her temple. “Okay. Noodles it is.”

 

#

 

Fahr laughed as she slurped down another mouthful of noodles. If she could say one thing about Vadim, it was that he made for good company. He had an easy smile about him, a way he took nothing too seriously. He’d laugh, joke with people, make friends no matter where he was.

 

And he’d pull Fahr into it no matter how she tried to stay on the outskirts. Suddenly, she wasn’t just the scary bodyguard, she was part of a community, part of the laughter and the jokes. People accepted her as Vadim’s mate, that was something she’d never had before.

 

She even liked Yefim, his soft-spoken brother. They could not be less alike, yet the brothers looked out for each other despite how they fought.

 

Of course, all the time together had her thinking of him in a way she wasn’t sure she was comfortable with, yet. All the soft kisses, the mindless contact, it had started to wake something up inside her she’d thought dead, something she’d worried was gone. She’d look at his hands, or the way his shoulder blades pulled together when he lifted something, and she’d feel that flutter of desire.

 

He’d catch her train of thought at times, his pupils expanding, lips tipping upward, but he’d never mention it. Fahr would look away and pretend to be busy instead of addressing it. The fact she wanted him, and he knew it, was bad enough. It was still too new to explore, too new to admit out loud about.

 

“So, mayor.” A man’s voice from her other side had her tensing. Mayor couldn’t sound more like fucker if he’d tried. Fahr spoke asshole fluently, and it seemed to be this guy’s mother tongue.

 

Vadim turned, resting an elbow on the bartop, a smile that said he either didn’t feel the violence or was trying to disarm it.

 

But Fahr knew violence. Live in the shit long enough and you know when it’s coming, you know when people are looking for it like a fucking beacon.

 

She slid her hand to the pistol at her hip.

 

“I don’t think I know you.” Vadim’s fingers tapped on the bartop of the noodlestand.

 

“Of course you don’t. You’re too busy with the lower stands scum, with helping ghouls and synths, to care about those of us who actually built the town.”

 

So not only violence, but a self-important asshole, too?

 

“It’s been a while since I’ve listened to Abbott, but I am sure he said it was the people who moved into the field who built the town.”

 

“They may have swung the hammers, but it’s our caps that paid for it all. Donough knew that, respected that.”

 

Well this wasn’t a shocker, not to Fahr. Vadim opening the gates to ghouls was an unpopular decision, even if it was the right one. Only a matter of time before someone decided it was something they needed to get into his face about.

 

The man took a step toward Vadim, and Fahr got ready to stand.

 

Vadim placed a hand on her arm before standing beside her. “I am sorry you do not like the new direction we have taken. Diamond City has been strong because we stand together despite being different. We were stronger and more prosperous when we had ghouls here, as well.”

 

“They’re monsters. All of them, just abominations. They don’t deserve to be here.”

 

A few others had gathered, and the divide was obvious. Upper stands stood with him, field folks backing Vadim.

 

Fahr whispered. “This is going to ugly, Vadim, and fast. I doubt those boys can use the weapons they’re carrying, but they’ll wound or kill a bystander or two.” What she didn’t mention was that he’d failed to put on the armor she’d asked him to wear when out, again.

 

He never wanted to wear armor, claiming that it was expecting trouble to put it on.

 

But Fahr knew how life was, and you should expect trouble, because it was always coming. Sure enough, here it was, and Vadim was unprotected, and that pissed her off worse than the men stomping their feet.

 

“We will talk them down. I do not want violence.” Vadim lifted his face back to the men, advancing with his hands held out to show he had no weapons. “We should continue to work together, for the betterment of all of Diamond City. I have no wish for violence.”

 

“Sometimes violence is the only way things get done.” The main boy set his hand on the pistol at his hip, but he didn’t put his finger on the trigger. It was a warning, a bluff, an idiot trying to show he had balls.

 

Fahr stood and went beside Vadim, hand on her pistol, but it wasn’t a bluff. She had no problem killing the kid. “Think twice, kid.”

 

He turned a dismissive look on her. “So now we have Goodneighbor trash here? Yeah, I know you. I’ve seen you on the heels of that ghoul mayor. Do you open your legs for anyone with a title? Is that all it takes?”

 

“You’ll never know, because even I wouldn’t sink low enough to open ‘em for you.”

 

“You bitch-“

 

Vadim threw a punch, the crunch of the kid’s nose loud in the silence of the market place.

 

Well fuck. She’d gotten so used to Vadim being a smile and a joke, she'd forgotten he was also a man with no shortage of bulk on him, shown by the unconscious kid on the ground, blood leaking from his nose.

 

Another man reached for his gun but Fahr pulled her gun, pointing it at him.

 

“Enough,” Vadim shouted into the crowd, his booming voice having everyone still.

 

Fahr didn’t move a fucking inch though, gun trained on the idiot who was itching for a fight. She’d give him one, but it’d be a really short one.

 

“We do not need more violence. Violence is why we have this place, to keep it outside those gates. I was elected, and at the next election, I will step down if I am not what the city wants. Until then? No more of this, no more petty fights and guns in the streets. If you want that, go join a raider gang. I will not have it here.”

 

Fahr kept her voice low. “That one is not done yet, Vadim. None of those upper stands people are. Sometimes you have to put someone down to show them you mean business.”

 

He turned toward her, face hard. “I will not kill citizens in the streets simply for disagreeing with me. This is enough, Fahr.”

 

“Get back to the office, then.”

 

“You will not come?”

 

“I will, when your ass is safely inside. I’ll behave myself, promise.”

 

He said nothing else, though she could feel the annoyance rolling off him as he turned and walked toward the lift.

 

“Little advice? Don’t try this shit again. I don’t pull my gun unless I plan to kill someone, and only he kept me from killing you. I have to pull my gun on you again? You won’t walk away from it.” Fahr slid the pistol back into its holster at her hip, the city guard having finally showed, before following Vadim.

 

#

 

Vadim rushed to the window, needing to see Fahr, to know she was following him. Even with the link, knowing she wasn’t hurt, the idea of leaving her in a marketplace full of people a moment from violence didn’t sit well.

 

But she was more than able to take care of herself. Far better than he was for the task.

 

His knuckles hurt from the punch, hand aching, thumb a mess of pain. He’d never just hit someone like that. A few times in his life, he’d been forced to fight, usually with a gun, to ward off raiders before he’d gotten to Diamond City, but he’d never been someone prone to fist fights.

 

Fahr stepped off the lift, the woman was nothing but anger and armor.

 

His has seeped away, the annoyance at her arguing with him, the frustration of her being in danger, those things never stayed with him long.

 

She held grudges, though.

 

“So much for a nice meal,” Vadim said, leaning against the desk.

 

“You will wear your armor from now on.” She pointed her finger. “And don’t risk escalating shit because someone mouths off about me. That wasn’t smart.”

 

“I do not think I ever claimed to be smart.”

 

She opened a dresser to grab the first aid kit, then slammed it so hard something inside the dresser cracked. “I think you broke your fucking thumb. No one ever teach you how to punch someone? Thumbs out, idiot.”

 

Vadim pulled his gaze from hers to look down and. . . sure enough. His thumb sat at a strange angle, and he couldn’t move it. It had even started to swell. “It seems I have some pockets of missing knowledge.”

 

She took a stimpack out and jammed it into his arm, hard enough he winced. The bandage was next, along with small pieces of wood. She made a splint for his thumb, wrapping it, her hands shaking.

 

Once done, she disposed of the trash and put the items back in the medkit, the tremble of her hands worse.

 

Vadim sighed before taking her hands in his, careful to not aggravate his thumb. “Talk to me.”

 

“You could have been killed out there.”

 

“They would not have-“

 

“-they would have! I know people, Vadim. I fucking know violence, and we were drowning in it out there. All it needed was one spark and it would have been a massacre. I can hold my own, but if you don’t listen to me, how am I supposed to keep you safe!”

 

He sighed, letting her anger wash over him because he knew what was beneath it. Fear. The woman was terrified.

 

“It was not so-“

 

She yanked her hands away and slammed the medkit shut. The plastic cracked at the corner, but she only threw it on top of the dresser and walked into her room, slamming the door behind her.

 

Hours later, Vadim had retired for the night. He wasn’t willing to bother her, since her anger had not gone away. It had grown and shrunk throughout the hours, but had not disappeared.

 

If she wanted privacy, he would give that to her. Besides, she might shoot him herself.

 

Perhaps wearing armor around her was the true smart move.

 

He laid in bed, nothing but underwear and his blanket over him. He hated sleeping in any clothing, but with Fahr so close, he refused to sleep naked, either.

 

The door to his room opened, and she slid into the darkness.

 

“You enjoy sneaking in while I’m asleep,” he said softly.

 

She shut the door behind her and crawled into the bed beside him. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

 

“No, you are not.”

 

She released a soft huff. “You’re right, I’m not. You scare me, Vadim. John did stupid shit all the time, but he was also ruthless when he needed to be. You aren’t, and that fucking terrifies me. I’m afraid you trying to be noble is going to get your killed, and I won’t be able to stop it.”

 

He wrapped an arm around her. “I am sorry I frightened you. I am not vicious, as you say. Spilling blood makes me uneasy, puts me too close to the people who are the reason I took over in the first place. If I can’t do this without bloodshed, then I will not do it at all.”

 

“Other than the man who insulted me?” She rested her forehead against his chest.

 

“Yes, other than him. For that, I won’t apologize.” He rubbed his hand over her back through the thin top she wore.

 

“I don’t need protecting, you know that, right?”

 

“Oh, I know. That was less about protecting you and more about my own anger. I should not have lost my temper, especially in front of you.”

 

She smiled, lips moving against his chest even though he couldn’t see it. “I don’t know about that. Once I got over being pissed at you for risking yourself, I kind of liked it.”

 

“You liked it when I punched someone?” He couldn’t hide the disbelief in his voice. First, a woman who had experienced as much violence as she had couldn’t possibly enjoy that sort of sight. Second, no one should like it.

 

She laughed and pressed a kiss to his bare chest, the warmth of her breath of her lips soaking into him. “You forget that I’m not a wallflower. I spent these last years elbow deep in blood. So you punching someone because they were mean to me? It’s sweet and romantic in a way I understand.”

 

“So no flowers, but broken noses are acceptable?”

 

“I’m not a difficult girl to please.” The light kisses moved over his chest, and up to his collar bone. She followed the bone, then kissed up his throat. “Broken noses, explosives, ammunition.”

 

He groaned at the feeling of her lips, the exploration she gave into. He would be a liar if he didn’t admit he’d thought about this, many times. When the link was silent, when she’d fallen asleep, he’d give into the fantasies in his head.

 

Even before she’d come back, even when he told himself it was wrong, he couldn’t help thinking about her like that.

 

Now though? The reality put his fantasies to shame.

 

She sucked at a spot high on his neck, just below his jaw, hard enough he knew he’d bruise. Leave it to her to want to mark him. He shuddered, and she laughed against his skin.

 

She pulled back, face so sweet and unsure in the dim room, that Vadim couldn’t help himself. He took her lips in a kiss, one that lacked that gentle edge he’d always tried for, that slowness, one that was simply him tasting her, needing her.

 

Her breath inhaled before she relaxed into the kiss, then a few moments more before she responded. After a while, her fingers gripped his shoulders, her leg slinging over his hips, as lost as he was. Her hips slid forward, causing her to press against his cock, hard but still covered by his underwear.

 

She broke the kiss, going still. His hand rubbed her back again, trying to keep her calm.

 

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, but didn’t move.

 

“We are not doing anything, and I do not expect you to do anything.”

 

“Can I stay? Even if we don’t fuck, can I sleep in here?”

 

He let go of her back and gripped her knee, pulling her leg off his hip when she seemed too frozen to do it herself. “Of course, you can stay.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before shifting her around so her back was to him, though far enough he didn’t press his erection against her again.

 

“I’m serious, Vadim, you need to be more careful.”

 

He pressed a kiss to her neck before pulling the blanket over them both, and wrapping an arm around her. All the things she didn’t say had him smiling. “You won’t lose me, I promise.”

 

She tensed for a moment, then whispered back, voice sullen and sleepy. “Better not.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Fahr woke warm and comfortable. And wet?

 

She lifted her head, wiping the wetness from her face with her arm. Great, drool. She was drooling. When was the last time she’d slept so soundly she’d drooled?

 

“This is a nice way to wake.” Vadim’s voice rumbled behind her.

 

Her cheeks heated and she made sure sarcasm dripped from her words. “Yeah, me drooling all over myself is what dreams are made of, I’m sure.”

 

First night sleeping beside him and she’d drooled. Both on herself and her pillow. And why the fuck did that bother her? It wasn’t like drool was something unheard of, and she was well past the bullshit of worrying about how she looked or what anyone thought of her.

 

Except. . . she wasn’t quite past that, as evident by the way she’d tried to scrub blood off her armor since coming to Diamond City, and the way she cleaned the dirt off her face, now.

 

Fuck.

 

“You beside me when I wake is nice, no matter how much or little you drool.” He chuckled, reaching above him to stretch. It made her very aware of the fact that he was wearing almost nothing. The blanket covered his lap, his bare chest on display. Last night, in the dark, it had been easy to ignore that but now?

 

Now she could focus on nothing else.

 

He arched his back up, easing tension from the night of sleep. It caused his muscles to flex beneath the skin, to move, and she followed the motion with her gaze. Had she really complained that she carried more muscle? Hers seemed like nothing beside his.

 

Her hands twitched. What would he feel like beneath her fingers? She’d touched him through the gloves, but not skin on skin, not really. She wanted to drag her fingers over his skin, to feel every dip and curve, to trace it with her lips.

 

And all that anxiety she expected never showed. That’s why she’d waited, though. She knew some of Nora Jacobs past, since the Commonwealth wasn’t the place for secrets, and the idea of moving on after something like that with a new mate? It turned her stomach.

 

No, she could have never been comfortable with Vadim like this after Vic. She’d needed time, years as it turned out, to grow. She needed to learn more about herself, to shrug off all that fear, before she moved forward. Even after all that time, it had to move forward slowly.

 

“Perhaps you should go get dressed, unless you wish to ogle a bit more. I would not complain.”

 

She drug her gaze up from his body to his face, to find humor in his eyes. Only he could call her out and still sound so charming.

 

“Careful, Vadim. I’m still pissed at you about yesterday.”

 

“But if I wore my armor, you could not look at me, no?”

 

“But if you wear your armor, I can look at you for longer,” she snapped back.

 

A grin pulled his lips further, like he hadn’t expected the quick comeback. “Do you want to get up? We do not have to if you’d rather stay here a little longer. Our tasks for the day can wait a bit longer.”

 

She let her tongue slid against her bottom lip, allowing her gaze to return to his chest. She twisted to her knees beside him, then reached out and set her fingers against his sternum. “Maybe a little longer.”

 

He remained still as she touched him, her hands flattening until she pressed her entire palms against his chest, thumbs brushing against his skin. She slid her hands down his chest, over his ribs, to where the blanket pooled in his lap.

 

Fahr leaned in, pressing a kiss to his chest. She kept her hands on his waist, keeping her body off his. Too much skin, too much contact, and she wasn’t sure how she’d react. Too much could overwhelm her.

 

“Can I touch you?” His chest rumbled against her lips, the question quiet. “If not, I’ll stay still.” What he didn’t say made it easier. He didn’t say that he wouldn’t be angry if she said no, that it wasn’t expected.

 

She swallowed hard, pulling back to look at him, and nodded. “Just, go slow. And don’t-“

 

“Don’t pull your hair. I would not.”

 

The fact that he’d remember that, that it would be important enough for him to store away meant something to her. “Okay,” she said, voice shaky.

 

He set his hand on her shoulder, fingers dipping beneath the neckline of her top. She drew in an uneasy breath and leaned into the touch, seeking more. How did he do that? Make her crave something she detested before? So many years where she’d have jerked away from his touch, and now she wanted to lean into it.

 

“What are you thinking?”His gaze stayed locked on her face, like he was reading her, like he was making damned sure he knew what was going on in her head. 

 

“That I hate to be touched.”

 

He stilled, then went to pull away.

 

Fahr grabbed his hand to stop his retreat. “I meant that I always have hated it. Vic would act sweet to me sometimes. He’d read, with me leaning against him, and run his hands over me like were the best fucking couple in the world. He tried to romance me sometimes, give me gifts, throw an arm over my shoulders when we walked around. He did it to prove he could, because he thought we were meant to be. Even later, I never liked people touching me. It always felt like a trick, like a way to get my guard down.”

 

“So, we can stop. I don’t have to touch you, not if it bothers you.”

 

She reached down and pulled her shirt up and over her head in a single quick move. It left her in the bed in only her shorts, but she had to be fast, before her nerves failed her.

 

Vadim drug in a loud breath, his gaze staying at her eyes. “We really don’t have to.”

 

Fahr brought his hand back to her bare shoulder. “I said I hated it before, because of Vic. You need me to fucking spell it out?”

 

“Yes. I think we both do.”

 

“I like when you touch me, okay? Fuck, you’re needy.”

 

“I just like to hear it when you admit you like me.”

 

“I don’t like you very much right now.”

 

#

 

Vadim chuckled at her words, sullen and angry. "I believe you do like me, no matter how much you say you do not." He moved his hand over her shoulder, fingers dipping along the curvature of the muscles there.

 

Some men might not like the muscles, the definition. They might prefer a more feminine figure, but he was not most men.

 

The way she moved, confident, sure. He’d been ready to pick up a crate of moonshine in the Dugout Inn one day, but she’d rolled her eyes and lifted the crate without a problem. She’d hauled it to the back, and thought it was heavy, she hadn’t wavered beneath the weight. She didn’t ask him for help, didn’t expect him to carry her share. She intended to take care of herself, to do for herself.

 

He let his hand drop, but slide to the side, to bypass her breast. Getting handsy at this point would spook her and likely end with a broken arm for him. Just because she could be sweet didn’t mean he forgot what she was capable of. The woman could and would hurt him if he gave her a reason.

 

Instead, he stroked his fingers over her side and down her ribcage, dipping into each valley. She shivered against the touch, arching into it, back shifting to get more.

 

Finally, he let his gaze lower, to really see her. That first night, he hadn’t looked at her, not like this. She’d been bloodied and hurt and seeing her as attractive had been the last thing on his mind. Thinking of her like that would have made him sick. Now? Now he could enjoy the sight.

 

Her shoulders were wider than most women’s, wrapped in muscle. Her breasts weren’t large, but his hands still itched to cup them. Instead, he focused on further down. Her ribs pulled in at her waist, muscles showing beneath her skin, giving her less of an hourglass shape, but it begged for him to wrap his hand around.

 

And for the first time, he could. He set his hand on her waist, thumb around front, fingers on her back, his other hand mirroring the grip, despite his still wrapped thumb.

 

She slung her leg over his lap and centered herself, keeping herself off him still. After her reaction the night before, staying off his lap was a wise choice. She wouldn’t care for what she found there. Her hands slid behind his head, holding him still as she kissed him, her body moving forward to press against him. It left her naked breasts against his chest, her nipples pressing into him.

 

Damn. His hands tightened around her waist as he returned the kiss.

 

He wanted to turn her over, to slid her beneath him press into her. While he needed to wait, he understood waiting, it didn’t always help his body remember it. Every instinct inside him had been screaming at him for years to have her. The biological nonsense that made up mating had him on edge, scratching its nails down the insides of his brain to start trying for children.

 

And he couldn’t deny, he wanted them. Having grown up with a brother, family was important to him. But, it would take time. She wasn’t close to being ready for that.

 

So he’d take what she was ready to give and force himself to wait for the rest.

 

She broke the kiss, a soft smile over her lips, forehead against his.

 

“How was that?”

 

“It’ll do.” She shrugged her shoulders, though he could sense the humor through their link.

 

“It was better than that, and I think you know it.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Maybe?”

 

“Well, it’s just once. I think I need more than once to be sure.”

 

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “That can be arranged, later. For now, we have to get up.”

 

“Romantic and responsible? Fuck, we were not the perfect match.”

 

Vadim drug his hands up her sides, thumbs brushing the curve of her breasts in a teasing stroke, before he hooked them behind her neck and kissed her again.

 

This time Fahr leaned in closer, letting her hips setting into his lap as she returned the kiss. She pressed against his erection, couldn’t have missed it, but she didn’t panic. Neither did she grind against him; she just seemed to accept it and focus on the kiss. He pulled back after a moment, smiling at the way she tried to follow his lips.

 

She huffed when she couldn’t capture his lips again and sat up, moving back so she was in his lap but not leaning against him. “Fine. I guess I could have done worse. The sooner we finish whatever business you have, the quicker we can get back here tonight. Come on, get your ass out of bed.”

 

Vadim laughed as she pulled her shirt back on, then stood. He couldn’t help it, unwilling to break the moment. Her flushed cheeks and easy smile had him wanting to forget the day, to forget everything he was supposed to do, and try to coax her back into bed.

 

She stopped at the door and looked back over her shoulder. “And Vadim? Put on your fucking armor, today.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Yep, this was going bad. No way around it. It was the sort of fucked up like when you see a suicider running at you, and you know you're fucked and it's only a matter of how long you've got.

 

Fahr walked through the back areas of Diamond City, having checked in with Travis for Vadim. The kid was a mess. If she thought Vadim was soft, Travis was a fucking kitten.

 

The kid had stumbled all over his words, sweating and blushing like he’d never had a girl in his trailer before.

 

Fuck, maybe he hadn’t.

 

The entire town was a disaster. Full of soft people who couldn’t protect themselves and yet still seemed ready to turn on each other. Goodneighbor was tough, but you knew where you stood there. Here?

 

Too many enemies who thought nothing would happen if they acted.

 

It had gone easy enough, though. Vadim just wanted Travis to come visit, and she suspected the errand was to get her out of the office.

 

Vadim had promised to stay put, but Fahr got antsy with too long inside. John hadn’t ever been one for the mayoral shit, so they rarely spent more than an hour or two inside. Vadim grew tired of her pacing, and often offered easy jobs to ease her boredom. As long as he stayed put in his office? It was pretty damned safe.

 

The easy shit was over though, judging from the two idiots following her. They’d watched her leave Travis’s trailed and followed her ever since, just behind her, not all the stealthy. She wanted to turn and unload a shot into each of their faces. Nothing like a show of force to convince assholes to knock off their shit.

 

But Vadim didn’t want blood. He didn’t want death, and what he wanted mattered to her. She didn’t want to see the look in his face when he realized she was a killer. She’d disappointed him as a mate when all the bullshit with Vic happened, and she didn’t want to do that again.

 

So instead, she walked back toward the wall. “Take off, Abbot,” she told the old man. She didn’t mind sacrificing people to keep the game going, but she didn’t care for innocents getting hurt when it could be avoided.

 

Abbot turned, spotting the two men following her, before rushing off.

 

Fahr turned to face them, her back to the wall. She didn’t want to risk getting flanked. “What do you want?”

 

“I heard some rumors about you, you know?”

 

“They’re probably true. I’d listen to any that include what I do to people who piss me off. You should run home, boys, before you end up hurt.”

 

One of them pulled a knife out and rolled it over his knuckles. Fucking sloppy work compared to John, like a cheap trick he practiced at home so he could show off. “Not that, no. Heard you were Vic’s little plaything. I knew Vic, you know? Saw you there a few times, but I never would have recognized you. You looked a hell of a lot different back then.”

 

“This is a game you don’t want to play, kids.” Fahr kept the hurt off her face at the reminder of what she’d been. So few knew about it, not after she’d changed so much. Each time she was reminded, she flinched, a memory of the woman she’d been, at the fact others knew it, had seen her.

 

“I remember looking at you back then, so damned pretty in this weird way, but Vic, he wasn’t one to share. Jealous man, he was. Always wondered what it was about you he found so interesting. What about Vadim? Does he share?”

 

“I don’t share, and that’s all you need to know.”

 

The other boy, the quiet one, took out his pistol and aimed it at her while the talker moved closer.

 

“Come on, Farrah. Just a little fun and we’ll let you walk out of here, head right back to your stupid mate. I bet you’ll even enjoy it. It’ll be just like the old days, huh?” He came forward until he was just in front of Fahr, having to tilt his eyes up to meet hers. He pressed that blade against her side but didn’t push it into her. “Just give in and you won’t even get hurt. You’re smart, smarter than Vic if you’re breathing and he ain’t, so you can see the logic in this.”

 

She took a deep breath when he reached out to grab her. Stay still. Don’t let panic rule, don’t let it force you to fuck up. She’d suffered beneath Vic’s touches, she could suffer through a moment or two of this until the right chance presented itself. Vic had been a killer, vicious and dangerous and so much more than these punks. If outlived him, she could deal with these two.

 

Talker’s hand touched her waist, then slid forward, fingers dipping below the waist of her pants. His gaze broke from her face to stare down, wanting to see what he was doing, to experience it. He figured she was tamed, that she was that same women who let Vic do whatever he wanted.

 

Poor fucker was wrong.

 

There is was. Her chance.

 

Fahr brought her head forward into the bridge of his nose. He released a broken scream, muffled by a crack. Pain blossomed in her side, enough she gasped, but she couldn’t stop to think about it. She reached for her pistol, but he jerked and knocked it from her grip.

 

She stomped her foot down on top of his, as hard as she could, using the heel for added effort. He yanked back that time, but she didn’t let him go far. She grabbed his shoulder and spun him, keeping him in front of her.

 

Quiet in the background swung his pistol around, no clear shot and he sure as fuck wasn’t a marksman, not with Fahr holding his buddy as a shield.

 

She reached into Talker’s belt for his gun, lifting the piece of shit weapon he carried and pointing it at the other. “Told you to just run home, boys. This game is bigger than either of you. Try to swim in it and something else will take a bite out of you.”

 

“Look, I was kidding Farrah-“

 

“-don’t you dare use that name, asshole.” Farrah’s fingers dug into his throat, so damned tempted to kill them both.

 

Two bullets and it would be over. Two bullets and she’d walk away.

 

No.

 

Vadim. She couldn’t stand the look on his face if she killed them.

 

She unloaded a shot in the shoulder of the quiet boy, who collapsed into a crying mess, before moving and using the pistol to slug the talked in the face. He fell to the dirt, unmoving.

 

Fahr picked up her own weapon and tossed the kid’s on the ground. She pressed a hand to her side, covered by her armor, that still fucking hurt. She wanted to kill them both, she wanted to scream at how hobbled she felt here, but she didn’t.

 

She sucked in a breath and walked toward the Mayor’s office, knowing Vadim was on his way to her.

 

#

 

Vadim met Fahr at the base of the lift, the link having gone to hell a few minutes before. Not fear. No, his Fahr didn’t give into fear much, but that rage? That rage said someone was going to die.

 

Her gaze was cold when she looked at him, flat, like she wasn’t even there. What was wrong with her? “You’re not wearing your fucking armor, Vadim.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I didn’t kill any of your precious townsfolk, don’t worry. Nope, gave ‘em the chance to come back and get more, because that’s what we do, right? We just keep catching and releasing until they get lucky one day, because they will, Vadim, everyone gets lucky eventually. Though, if you don’t want them to bleed out, I suggest you send someone over to the wall behind Valentine’s place to help ‘em out.”

 

“Are you okay?” He touched her face, tilting it to the side, fingers brushing her skin.

 

She shook her head. “I hate this town and I hate these people and right now? Right now, I really hate me.”

 

He set a hand on her side to pull her closer, but she shoved away from him, hands shaking, releasing a gasp at the touch. “What is wrong? What happened? Are you hurt? Talk to me.”

 

She shook her head and turned around. “I’ll be in the fucking Inn drinking myself into a really good stupor. This god damned town of yours is going to get us both killed, Vadim. You faster if you don’t start putting on the fucking armor.”

 

He watched her walk away before he looked down at his hand, the hand that had been on her waist.

 

Blood covered it.

 

#

 

Fahr leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from beneath it.

 

“Fahr?” Yefim’s soft voice had her offering a greeting quick wave as she straightened up.

 

And left a lot of blood on the bartop. It caught the light like brand new paint.

 

“Well fuck. Sorry ‘bout that.” She unscrewed the lid to the whiskey before pouring a lot more than she should down her throat.

 

“You are injured. Come and sit, please.” Yefim set a hand on her arm, but she pulled away, stumbling against the bar. He lifted his hands. “I only want to help.”

 

“You can help by not touching me. I’m not tracking at one hundred percent right now, and Vadim will be pissed if I break your fingers. He’s probably already pissed at me, don’t need to add anything more to it.”

 

Yefim looked to his left, then spoke to the barkeep they’d hired on, asking him to watch the bar.

 

When he returned his attention back to Fahr, he held a hand out to indicate she follow, but didn’t touch her. “Please. You are my brother’s mate, and you are hurt. At least let me watch over you while you treat yourself.”

 

Snapping at him felt wrong, like kicking someone already beaten, so she tucked the whiskey against her chest and used her hand to push herself back to her feet. Getting somewhere she could lie down would be good, because she wasn't feeling very sturdy as she forced her body to move.

 

Each step hurt more, like she’d just realized she was really hurt, not that the quiet and stillness took place of the fight.

 

Yefim lead her back to the room Vadim had stayed in before. He shut the door behind them.

 

The trip took everything out of her, and she slid into the chair, breathing hard. She set the whiskey on the ground and struggled to unhook the sides of her armor, but there was no fucking way she was getting that shit over her head. "Can you help me get this off?”

 

Yefim was there in a moment, gripping the heavy metal armor and hefting it over her head, careful to not touch her. Even still, blood coated his hands.

 

Fahr forced herself to look down. Yep. Asshole had shoved that knife into her side. He didn’t even leave it in. She could have used a new knife. “Well fuck.”

 

Yefim set her armor down before opening a dresser and removing a medkit. “Is that a knife wound?”

 

“I’m going to guess, yes. Unless it’s just a really nasty paper cut.” She reached down and took hold of the whiskey again. “Look, my hands aren’t cooperating. Could you hand me the bandages?”

 

“Where is Vadim?”

 

“I yelled at him and then came here. The alcohol is here, you know.”

 

Yefim shook his head but pulled a chair up beside her. “You two are the most difficult mates I have seen.” He took out a bandage and pulled the back of the adhesive off, reaching it toward her.

 

Fahr jerked away, hissing a breath out. “Don’t touch me. I’m not kidding, Yefim. My head space? Not a good one right now. I can’t handle you touching me.”

 

“You cannot treat this yourself.”

 

She put the whiskey bottle between her thighs and took the bandage from him, hands shaking, but she got it over the wound. Wrinkles in the adhesive where blood leaked out said it was far from a perfect job, but it was all she could do. “See? Per-fucking-fection.”

 

Yefim picked up a stimpack and held it out to her.

 

She sucked in a deep breath when she plunged the needle into her side, just above the wound, and administered the medicine. It burned, like they always did, but the bleeding slowed to a trickle. The pain eased to an ache and itching that would last days.

 

“What else can I do?”

 

She shook her head before taking another drink of the whiskey. “Nothing. Got everything I need right here. Thanks, brother.” The term Hancock always used rolled off her tongue, as natural as breathing.

 

Yefim nodded. “I will be just outside if you need me.”

 

She gave a thumbs up, the heat in her stomach from the alcohol a nice addition to the way her head swam. Anything was better than thinking, especially with how damned fucked her head was.

 

#

 

Vadim waited outside the door until Yefim exited. “Is she okay?”

 

“She was stabbed in her side from what I can tell.”

 

“Does she need a doctor? We can get Sun.” His voice kept on after he’d stopped thinking about what he was saying, until he just talked.

 

Yefim lifted his hand to silence his brother. “No. She has taken a stimpack and I do not think her wound is bad. She will be weak for a day or two because she lost a lot of blood. She,” he hesitated, frowning. “She did not wish to be touched. She said her head was in a bad place.”

 

Vadim rubbed his hand over his head. “Yes. I spoke to Abbot. The men who cornered her, the ones in custody now, they threatened her. They wanted to. . .” his voice trailed off, his throat tightening. He couldn’t even say it. Had he truly put her in so much danger?

 

Yefim pat Vadim on the back. “She had an entire bottle of whiskey in there. I suggest you go try to take it away, because in her condition, it will make her very sick.”

 

Vadim groaned, but nodded. Yefim was right. He needed to go in, to help her, to take away her whiskey.

 

Well, at least he’d put on his armor this time.  

 


	7. Chapter 7

Vadim walked into the room, closing the door behind him. Fahr sat on the chair, bottle in her hand, gaze on the far wall.

 

“Hey, Fahr.” He didn’t want to startle her.

 

Her gaze moved over to him. “You’re wearing your armor. You must realize you’re in trouble.”

 

“I was afraid you’d decide to shoot me.”

 

She tilted her head back and took another drink. Half the bottle had already been drunk. She grimaced as she pulled the bottle away. “No. I wouldn’t shoot you, Vadim, even if I threaten it sometimes. Fuck, I think losing you would kill me.”

 

He took a seat in the chair beside her, the one Yefim must have used. “You should not drink so much. You lost blood and too much alcohol will make you sick.”

 

She handed the bottle over without even a snarky word, telling him all he needed to know about how she felt. Their fingers brushed, and she yanked away, the bottle crashing to the ground between them.

 

Whiskey leaked on the floor, and she jerked her gaze away. “Fuck. Sorry, Vadim.” She swallowed hard, then whispered again, softer. “Sorry.”

 

Vadim picked up the bottle, setting it beside him. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

 

She said nothing, shaking her head and reaching for the backrest to push herself up. The motion didn’t carry, her face twisting to a wince as she sunk back down.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

She shook her head. “Don’t touch me. I can’t. . . just don’t touch me.”

 

He stood and moved his chair beside her, backrest to her, then did the same with another on the other side. It gave her a sturdy surface to push off from, though her gasp said it still hurt.

 

He stayed still, even when he wanted to reach out and wrap an arm around her.

 

She got herself to her feet, then moved slowly to the bed. She stopped in front of it. “I’m covered in blood. I can’t get into your bed; I’ll ruin it.”

 

“I don’t care about the bed. The bed does not matter at all. I can get you a rag and water, though. To wash up, if it would make you more comfortable.”

 

Fahr nodded before sitting down hard on the edge of the bed. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.

 

Vadim turned to give her privacy while he collected the things. A bowl, a can of water he emptied into the bowl, and a rag. He brought them back over to find her shirtless, blood smeared over her side around the bandage.

 

He set the bowl beside her then turned to find her a shirt.

 

“This is like the first night.” Her voice came out so soft he almost couldn't hear her.

 

“Not quite. I cleaned you that night. I hadn’t even spoken to you and I had to clean you. You had so many bruises on you, I wasn’t sure how you were still alive. I still close my eyes and see those bruises.”

 

Water splashed. “The men from today, they knew Vic. They knew me when I was his, had seen me when I was his.”

 

“You were never his. No one can own you, Fahr.”

 

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “They looked at me like he used to, like the person I was before.”

 

“Why didn’t you kill them? You could have, easily. I know you have a reputation that is well-earned, so why did you not kill them?”

 

“Because you didn’t want me to.”

 

He sighed and turned back to her, shirt in hand. “How can you think I would risk you?”

 

“Because you didn’t want to spill any blood. I didn’t want you to look at me like that. You’re the only person I know who never looked me like I was Vic’s, and you never looked at me like I was a killer, either. You always looked at me like I was just me, and I don’t want that to change.”

 

The blood was off her side, so Vadim handed her the shirt, then took the bowl and rag away. “That would never change.” He took a deep breath before pulling one of the chairs closer to the bed. “I am not doing a very good job if you do not understand that you are the most important thing to me. I will give up this city, I will give up anything for you. If anyone every raises a hand to you, I would never be upset with you for defending yourself.”

 

She moved her hands to the button of her pants, unfastening them. “I can’t get these off, Vadim.”

 

“Are you sure? I cannot help you without touching you.”

 

“Yeah. I need these off me. Just talk to me, please.”

 

He nodded and moved to his knees. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

 

She followed the request, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging in, as she stood.

 

He worked fast, sliding the pants off her hips, leaving her panties in place. “I heard you call Yefim brother. You probably did it without thinking, but you won him over. I can tell, he’s charmed by you.”

 

“Well, someone has to be.”

 

“You charm me. Lift your foot, please.” He slid her boot off, then pulled the first pant leg off. “Next foot.” He repeated the action on her other leg.

 

Once free of her pants, Fahr sat back again, but didn’t remove her hands from his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

 

He was so tired of hearing that she was sorry. How many times could he explain she didn’t have anything to be sorry for? He wasn’t about to be angry that she was having a rough night. They were going to happen no matter what, especially after the day she’d had.

 

Instead of arguing with her, he lifted his gaze to hers. “Why are you sorry?”

 

Maybe if she explained to it, if she said it out loud, she’d realize how absurd it was to apologize. Sometimes it took talking things through to understand them.

 

She moved her hands from his shoulders to his cheeks, but her eyes didn’t quite focused. He’d guess the whiskey was hitting her.

 

“I’m sorry that I’m pulling away. I know you’re not Vic.”

 

“Do you think I am mad at you?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“So why are you sorry?”

 

She leaned in, brushing her cheek against his, whiskey heavy on her breath. “Because you deserve better. Isn’t fair to make you suffer for what someone else did.”

 

He kept his hands off her, kept them beside him. “I have found life is rarely fair, and if anyone understands that, it should be you.”

 

She sighed but nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do. The boys, they alive?”

 

“For the moment. They’re in a cell while I figure out what to do with them.”

 

She pulled back and scooted back in the bed, until she laid on the side beside the wall. “You need to start listening to me, Vadim. I’m not great at a lot of shit, but I know how to stay in power. I know how to stay alive and how to keep others alive.” She kept her gaze on the ceiling. “Will you sleep here? I just don’t really want you to go, don’t want to sleep here by myself. I can’t-“

 

“-you are always explaining yourself, but I am not expecting anything from you. You do not need to explain or justify what you want or do not want. Yes, I will sleep here. No, I do not expect you to have sex with me or anything else. Understood?”

 

She huffed softly but nodded. “Sure. Just take the armor off before you get in.”

 

“Armor on, armor off. I doubt I can ever please you.”

 

She laughed, rolling so her back was to him. “Oh, I’m gonna guess you can.”

 

The humor in her tone had him relaxing before he undressed and crawled into the bed beside her, but not touching her.

 

She fell asleep before long, snores fueled by whiskey making him smile. He lost himself in the soft murmur of the Dugout Inn he’d missed over his time in the Mayor’s quarters. Times like tonight, he wondered why he’d accepted the job at all. He didn’t seem to excel at it, and he missed his old life.

 

His gaze shifted to Fahr, and he remembered why.

 

#

 

Fahr woke, wrapped around someone and with a headache that would have driven her to her knees if she’d been standing.

 

Fuck. So Vadim was right, she should have let off the whiskey a little sooner.

 

She cracked her eyes open to find Vadim still asleep, on his back with his arm behind his head. Fahr had thrown a leg around him during the night and curled up to his side. Looked like the whole no touching shit went out the window once her eyes closed.

 

The silence through the door told her it was morning. Dugout Inn was always quiet in the mornings, most of the drunks sleeping off the hangovers from the night before.

 

She waited to see if panic would take her. The night before still scratched at her memory, the way that old fear had gotten ahold of her, had threatened to drag her under. Nothing happened.

 

The panic attacked had drifted away during the night, and Vadim had turned back into him. Not a body, not a threat, but just him. Her mate who was too sweet and too loud for his own good.

 

That drew a smile from her as she shifted closer, her thigh brushing over his hips and pressing against an erection that would damn near impossible to miss.

 

And for the first time, that didn’t scare her. Maybe it was because he was asleep, maybe because they’d developed some trust, maybe because she’d been thinking about this too much lately to be unaffected by it.

 

She shifted her leg, rubbing against him.

 

A groan spilled from his lips, but he didn’t wake. His hips lifted into the touch, an unconscious seeking. Fahr moved her leg down, still wrapped around him, but on his thighs now. She reached with the hand that was around him and cupped him through his underwear.

 

His eyes snapped open, eyebrows drawn together as he gazed down like he wasn’t sure what was happening. “Oh,” was all he offered.

 

“Do you want me to stop?”

 

He shook his head. “No. No, I do not.”

 

She leaned closer, setting her head on his shoulder so she could watch as she hand slid beneath the waistband of his underwear to touch him directly.

 

Fahr pulled in a shaky breath at the small shift of his hips when she wrapped her hand around him. The skin of his cock was soft and warm, despite his hardness. She stroked him once, slowly, before pulling his foreskin back. Her thumb brushed the head of his cock, pressing at the slit there.

 

Had she ever looked so closely? Fuck knew she hadn’t with Vic, and before then it had been childish flings with quickies, nothing more. This time? This time she wanted to explore, to play, to enjoy herself.

 

This wasn’t some fling, this wasn’t someone she wasn’t going to see again, this was her mate.

 

For better or worse, they were stuck together.

 

So, she played. She sped her hand in teasing strokes, sometimes squeezing her hand tighter, sometimes loosening it in almost a light brush of fingers. She chased the sounds he made, sometimes deep groans, sometimes broken gasps.

 

Those sounds heated her, too. Wetness gathered between her own legs as she played with him, wanting to see him come, wanting to be the one who did it.

 

She grasped him tighter, stroking in long motions where her hand closed over the head of his cock, until his hips drove up into her hand.

 

He set a hand on top of hers. “Maybe we should stop?”

 

“I don’t want to. Let me watch you, Vadim. I need-“ _you._ She couldn’t say that, though. “this. I need this.”

 

He took a deep breath but removed his hand from hers.

 

Fahr set the same pace, taking cues from the snap of his hips, until he let out a low groan and came, her gaze on his face, on the way lines etched into his expression until it relaxed at the end with a shuddering breath.

 

Vadim caught his breath then leaned over, pulling her into a deep kiss. Fahr responded, her hand still on him, unwilling to let go, to lose that moment with him. Everything else would shove into the space too soon. Her past, their future, all the shit that filled the present.

 

She didn’t want to deal with any of that, with nothing beyond his lips.

 

He broke the kiss, a disgruntled sound on his lips.

 

They both gaze down between them and froze.

 

Fahr’s hand had come on it, far too similar to that first night, after Vic. To how she’d scrubbed her thighs clean.

 

Vadim recovered faster, removing her hand from him carefully then leaning to the side for a shirt. He used it to clean her hand in quick motions before he wiped himself clean. “Are you okay?”

 

She nodded, swallowing in a loud gulp. “Yeah. Yeah, fine. Let’s, um, let’s get ready, yeah?”

 

Vadim said nothing while she slid past him and off the bed. At least her wound had healed. She dressed, using one of his shirts with her pants, then pulled her armor on over it.

 

Vadim caught her hand when she tried to leave the room. “Are you okay? Really?”

 

She took a deep breath and pressed her forehead against his. “Yeah. I know it ended weird, but I had a good morning.”

 

His lips tilted up. “So did I.” He set on hand on her cheek then kissed her, taking his time like they had nowhere else in the world to go, like they had nothing else to do. He moved back but kept his hand on her cheek. “And if I am given mornings like this, I think I will wear my armor more often.”

 

Fahr rolled her eyes as he pulled away to dress.

 

Charming was one thing, that she’d grown used to, but the teasing? The easy banter? How was she supposed to keep her wits about her when he did that?

 

Vadim really wasn’t playing fair.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Fahr stood beside Vadim on the outskirts of the city. The two men who attacked her stood, guards on either sides of them. The doctor had patched up the men, though one still had his arm in a sling, and neither had the fight they’d showed the day before.

 

Vadim turned toward Fahr. “What do you want to do with them?”

 

“She’s crazy-“

 

Vadim pointed a finger at the man who spoke, the talker who’d been the handiest with her. “Quiet. This is my mate, and you threatened her, attacked her, hurt her. If you walk away from this alive, it is only because she allows it. Do not push your luck further by speaking.” The venom in his voice had everyone freezing.

 

Vadim wasn’t an angry man, or a vindictive man, but right then? Right then, Fahr believed he’d take the rifle himself and kill the men.

 

He set a hand on her cheek. “The choice is yours. They can be exiled and not allowed back into the city. Hancock will receive word as well, so they should avoid Goodneighbor, because he will gut them if he finds them. If you want them dead? That is okay as well. I want you to make the choice, Fahr, and I am happy with anything that makes you happy.”

 

Fahr nodded and pulled away from Vadim, walking up to the men. First she addressed the quiet one. “You need to pick your friends better, buddy. This asshole? He’s gonna get you killed. Even though you didn’t touch me, you picked a shitty friend and being weak’ll get you killed out here as fast as being bad will.” She turned toward the talker. “You? You’re hopeless because you’re just an asshole. I see you again? I’ll kill you. Let ‘em go.”

 

They both nodded, babbling thank yous as the guards unbound their hands. They turned away and walked toward the road.

 

“You’re going to just let them go?” Vadim frowned, and if Fahr didn’t know better, she’d say he was disappointed.

 

And. . . that bloodthirst looked good on him.

 

Fahr grinned and looked at the guard on the left. “Toss me your rifle.”

 

He did it without question, and Fahr dropped to one knee, lining up the shot. They hadn’t gotten that far, and the guard had a hell of a scope. She pulled the trigger once, then reaimed and shot again.

 

“Did you kill them?” Vadim stared off after them where they’d hit the ground.

 

Fahr tossed the gun back. “No. Just grazed each on the leg. They’ll be fine, but I wanted them to have a reminder of me.”

 

The men pushed themselves up from the dirt, then continued their staggering away. A stimpack and each would be fine, but the scar would make them think of her every fucking time they took their pants off. Seemed a fair trade.

 

Vadim narrowed his gaze as they fled. “That is still too good for them. I was not kidding. I already had a letter sent to Hancock. They would be wise to avoid Goodneighbor, but maybe they’ll go anyway.” A smile spread across his lips.

 

Fahr laughed and slid her arm through his as they turned to head back in to the city.

 

#

 

Vadim poured a drink for the drifter seated at the bar, then shoved it across to him.

 

Yefim shook his head. “You are the mayor, Vadim. Why are you hiding here and serving drinks?”

 

Vadim poured himself and Yefim a whiskey. “Because if I spend another minute in that office, I will lose my mind. This is my break.”

 

“Your break is working here?” Yefim took his glass and sipped at it. “Is your new job not all you hoped it would be?”

 

“No. It is dull and I am not very good at it. Fahr keeps telling me how I do not listen to her, and she’s right. I don’t, because the person I need to be is not the person I want to be.”

 

Yefim nodded, taking another sip of his whiskey. “I believe the city can get along without you for a few weeks. Perhaps you and your new mate should get out. Go somewhere. You have not had time alone, and she appears as unhappy as you are here.”

 

“She is unhappy?”

 

Yefim set his hand on Vadim’s back, that same solid foundation his brother always was. “She is not unhappy with you, Vadim. She is anxious and bored, unsettled. Going out and doing something will serve her well, and that will serve you both well.”

 

Vadim huffed a soft breath. “So we are to go on Holiday? That will solve this?”

 

“Perhaps it will. If it does not, it might at least help you deal with your mate better.”

 

“And what are we supposed to do? Wander around?”

 

“If you would like, but I thought perhaps you could go to Sanctuary. Nora Jacobs has built it into a settlement, and has asked about supply lines for alcohol. It would be best to do such negotiations in person.”

 

Vadim took another drink. Sanctuary was a far distance. Nora had mentioned it to him one night when she and Nick had been in. She’d pulled up a map on her pipboy, showing him where her settlement was, at the north-western edge of the commonwealth.

 

Would it be safe to travel so far? They could hire a mercenary, though Vadim could almost hear Fahr complain at that idea. She’d tell him they didn’t need another gun, that she could keep them alive.

 

Perhaps it was time to believe her, to trust her.

 

Vadim pushed his empty glass away. “Yes, I think you are right. I’ll make arrangements for while I am gone. I’ll talk to her tonight at dinner.”

 

#

 

Fahr glared at Vadim. He’d been quiet all evening, secretive and distracted.

 

She found she didn’t care for it. The man didn’t have a deceptive bone in his body, seeming to lack that part of his genetic code entirely.

 

So what the fuck was he up to?

 

He sat beside her on the bed, having stripped down to his underwear already. She wore a tank top and her own underwear, both having readied themselves for bed.

 

She had to say, she missed the Dugout Inn. Sleeping there had been nice, like a home. Here felt like a job.

 

“All right, fucking say it already. How bad can it be? Did you fuck a deathclaw? Break my favorite rifle? Out with it.”

 

“You always have a way with words. I spoke to Yefim today, and have an idea. I want to go on a trip. I have a business issue to take care of in Sanctuary.”

 

“The city’ll be okay?”

 

“It survived before me; it can survive in my absence.”

 

“And why exactly are you sulking around because of that? Not that big a deal.”

 

“Because it will leave you and I alone on a long trip. Just us. No Goodneighbor, no Diamond City. No guards or friends. I am not sure you even want that, if you would feel safe alone with me.”

 

Really? What an idiot. Fahr shoved his shoulder so he laid back. She slid over him, knees pressed into each side of the mattress beside his hips. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

 

“Yes, sometimes.”

 

She frowned and sat up. “You’re supposed to say no.”

 

“I would not lie to you, and yes, sometimes you are afraid of me, still. So if travelling alone with me makes you uncomfortable, we need to speak about it now.”

 

Fahr pressed her lips together, closing her eyes for a moment. Was she afraid of him? Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes she was afraid of her own fucking shadow. But then she’d take a deep breath and think through it and be fine. “I think we should do this, Vadim. We haven’t really ever done anything together, not without all the bullshit of mayors and towns and everything else. The trip isn’t that far, and I am more than ready to escape Diamond City for a while. I need some action, I need a fight, something.”

 

Vadim laughed and set his hands on her thighs, skin against skin. “We are very different people. I was hoping to get away from the complications, and you are hoping for a fight.”

 

“Well, lucky for us, the Commonwealth provides.” She leaned down and took his lips in a sweet kiss.

 

He broke the kiss before rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “That it does.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

Vadim pulled at the heavy pack on his shoulders. He’d taken most of the gear, not out of some sort of chivalry, but because Fahr was the fighter. She’d be more effective if she didn’t have fifty pounds strapped to her back.

 

Not that any of it could keep Vadim relaxed. He hated leaving Diamond City. The place had turned into his home, and while it was less fun now, it was still safe. Out here? He expected something to leap from every corner.

 

And many things did. Fahr never startled, never flinched. She lifted her rifle and took the shot as if it required no thought. Nothing big, yet. Mutts, radroaches, a few ferals. Still, nothing seemed a challenge to her. She fell into the role of fighter, or protector, with such ease. 

 

They’d walked all day, headed for a Police Station to take cover in for the night. The sun had started to drop below the city line as they neared it, and not a moment too soon. Vadim was not used to long travels like this. His feet hurt and his back ached, and he wanted nothing more than to pull Fahr against his chest and settle in for the night. 

 

Little conversation had occurred, Vadim tense and Fahr quiet. Once they could stop, he expected the whole bonding thing Yefim had hoped for might happen. They'd be able to talk, to spend time together as just them, without so many complications. 

 

“Cambridge Police Station,” Fahr said, pointed at the back of a large brick building. “Brotherhood used to control it, but they’re long gone, now. It’s easy to fortify and lots of people avoid it because the Brotherhood were here. Perfect place to set up for the night. By tomorrow, we’ll reach Sanctuary.”

 

Vadim nodded and followed Fahr past a metal gate and then through a small alleyway. A nice, quiet night sounded perfect. Food, a fire, getting off his feet. Amazing.

 

Then the sound of a shot hitting the ground by Fahr’s foot destroyed that plan.

 

#

 

Fahr jerked her gaze up to the roof where a man in sunglasses aimed down his sniper rifle at her. She narrowed her gaze, because she’d know that asshole anywhere. “What the fuck, Deacon?”

 

He moved the rifle and yelled back. “Fahrenheit?”

 

“Who the fuck else looks like me, huh?”

 

“Stay put, huh? I’ll come down. You head any closer you’re gonna set off mines and then I’ll have to pick up all the bloody chunks. Not my idea of a good time.”

 

Fahr crossed her arms and sighed. Of all the people she could have run across out here, it was him? The last time she’d seen him, he’d fucked with John’s head, him and his mate and whoever the fuck the Paladin was. They'd gotten along well enough before then, since she knew Deacon and the Railroad worked out of Goodneighbor and John always demanded they look the other way. Hell, she'd bailed him out of a situation or two when his stupid disguises didn't work as well as he'd hoped. 

 

“A friend?” Was that jealousy in Vadim's voice?

 

She shrugged. “Not exactly a friend.”

 

“I got the sense he doesn’t have many friends.”

 

Fahr turned. “You know Deacon?”

 

“Not well. He was at the Dugout Inn during the post-Institute celebrations, and during what happened after.”

 

“What happened afterward? I saw the bitch blow like everyone else, heard Nora did it, don’t know much else.”

 

Deacon walked out, hoping over a few mines as he neared, rifle over his shoulder. “Oh, it was a spectacular tale. Maybe we’ll spill it over dinner. Oh, and look who we have here! Vadim, my favorite barkeep anywhere. You strays need a place for the night?”

 

Fahr couldn’t help the annoyance in her voice at the idea of taking charity. “Didn’t think this place was taken.”

 

“This is home sweet home for us. You shared your home with us in Goodneighbor, though, so I don’t mind returning the favor. Come on in. Just follow me, avoid the mines.”

 

Fahr rolled her eyes, but followed Deacon, jumping over the array of mines he’d placed. Of course, she didn’t need to tell him that she’d have seen ‘em as soon as she turned the corner. Disarming mines was Commonwealth 101. Not all that hard.

 

Didn’t need to hurt the poor spy’s feelings, though.

 

Once inside, she came face to face with a hell of a lot of metal. Well, face to chest, at least. She had to lean back to look up and into the face of that unhappy looking Paladin. “Well, hello. You want to back up? I’m not a fan of people get this close.”

 

He didn’t move back. “I am wondering what you are doing here. Deacon may know you, but that does not make me feel comfortable with you here, armed, with those I love. I suggest you explain yourself.”

 

A small woman pushed between them, shoving at the paladin’s armor until he moved backward. Not that she could have budged him, he seemed to just give in. “Knock it off, Danse. That’s Vadim behind her, from the Dugout Inn. It’s fine.” She turned toward Fahr, placing her back toward Danse who only glared. “Sorry. My name is Haylen. Danse here can be a little over protective. I remember you from Goodneighbor. The Mayor’s bodyguard, right?”

 

“I was, yeah. Now I’m protecting a new mayor.” She jerked her head back toward Vadim.

 

Haylen cast her eyes toward him but didn’t approach, didn’t try to shake his hand. Her gaze was guarded and wary. “Hello again, Vadim. I heard you took over in Diamond City.”

 

“Hello, Haylen. You look better.”

 

She shrugged. “I’d have to, right? Come on in, you guys. I’ll show you around. We’ve got a guest room all set up for when one of our nearly constant houseguests comes through.”

 

Fahr followed the smaller woman, noting how both Deacon and Danse watched her. Fahr hadn’t missed the strange tension between the three last time, but it was obvious now. Less tension, more connection, though.

 

Haylen pointed at the door toward the left. “Storage is back there. If you need anything, let me know. I keep us stocked pretty well. Nora likes to stop in, so she helps make sure we have anything anyone might need. Through that door is the living room area. Kitchen in here. It isn’t much, but it all works.” She went up the stairs, stopping by a door. “This is Deacon, Danse, and my room. Ignore the messy bed, Deacon hates the bed made. He says something about it being a bad omen.”

 

Well, that answered if the three of them were together, didn’t it?

 

She didn’t hesitate, like it didn’t throw her at all to admit it. Haylen simply moved to the door at the far side of the hallway. “This is the guest room. Everything is clean in it, well, as clean as anything out here is. Danse is going to start dinner soon, so I’ll make sure he makes enough for us all.”

 

“Do not go out of your way on our account,” Vadim said, keeping his distance.

 

“Consider it a ‘I’m sorry for leaving a dead body in your bar’ present.”

 

“If I got a free meal every time someone left a dead body in my bar, I’d never have to feed myself again.”

 

Haylen laughed and slid past them. “Go ahead of make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be in about an hour. Is that okay?’

 

“Yeah, it’s great, thanks.” Fahr shut the door after Haylen left, then helped Vadim with the pack. “What was she talking about with the body?”

 

Vadim rolled his shoulders, gaze skirting around as he took in the room. “You have heard of Nate Jacobs, yes? Or, he went by Nate Cooper as well.”

 

“Some, yeah. Real asshole. Nora’s old mate, right? Took over the Institute.”

 

He nodded. “Yes. Haylen became his mate when Nora woke. He was much like Vic was, treated her as Vic treated you. He managed to escape the Institute, and tracked Haylen to Diamond City. His plan was to kill Nora and her mate, but little stands against Nora. Haylen was there, that night, when Nora finally killed Nate.”

 

Fahr’s gaze went to the door, thinking about the small woman. To think she’d suffered, so much like how Fahr had, and yet she didn’t strike her as having grown hard, not like Fahr.

 

Vadim touched her shoulder and she jumped.

 

He pulled back. “Sorry. I said your name and you did not hear me.”

 

She forced a smile. “Yeah, sorry. My head was somewhere else.”

 

“You were thinking that she does not seem very strong.”

 

“That sounds heartless.”

 

He touched her again, setting a hand on her arm and pulling her into a hug. “It is not heartless. It is an expectation that someone who lives through something becomes stronger. She is stronger, just not in the same way as you. People heal differently. Nora, she is much like you. She became fire. Haylen? She became kinder, but still just as strong. You will see.”

 

She nodded and took a deep breath, trying to shake away her thoughts. “Right. Yeah. Okay, well, we have an hour. Let’s get washed up and change, huh? Looks like they’ve got cans of water and rags in here. I’ll feel a lot fucking better after I’m clean.”

 

Vadim nodded, letting her go. He pulled his shirt off while she opened a can of water and wet the first rag. He caught the rag before working at washing the dirt from his face, chest, arms, pits. Fahr ignored her own rag, the water she’d already wet it with dripping through her fingers as she watched.

 

He was handsome. How long had it been since she’d thought of a man as handsome? Since she’d really looked at someone and wanted them? Hell, she hadn’t even been willing to consider someone good lucking in the years after Vic, everyone becoming a threat and nothing else.

 

Vadim smiled when he caught her gaze. “You should try to clean yourself, Fahr, or you won’t manage the task before it is time to eat.”

 

Heat crept up her cheeks. “Right. Not my fault you’re. . .”

 

“What am I?” He chuckled when she only glared at him.

 

Fahr turned away, unhooking her armor and pulling it off. Her shirt followed next. She worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning away the dirt and sweat until she was, for the most part, clean from the waist up.

 

“How’s your wound?”

 

Fahr peered down. “Healing. Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

 

He set a hand on her shoulder, turning her so she faced him. He crouched down in front of her, fingers brushing the skin around the wound. “It is looking better.” His hands went to her hips, gaze drifting up to meet hers. “Is this okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He smiled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her hipbone.

 

She tensed, aware suddenly of her hard lines, of her muscles and her scars and the lack of anything feminine about her.

 

“Relax,” he said, breath spilling against her still damp skin.

 

She took a deep breath then reached between them for her pants. The button opened with ease, and she shimmied out of the pants and underwear before Vadim could voice a complaint.

 

She stepped backward and used the rag on her leg. “Should probably finish the job before we try anything, huh?”

 

He laughed, still crouching. His hand grasped hers until she looked at him. “Let me finish, please?”

 

“You want to clean me? Aren’t you tired of that, yet?”

 

“I didn’t get to enjoy it before. I plan to enjoy it now, if you’ll let me, that is.”

 

#

 

Vadim held still until Fahr nodded and released the rag into his hands. He grasped her foot, rewarded by her setting her hands on his shoulders for balance before lifting her foot.

 

He drug the rag over her foot, then up her calf and to her thighs. He repeated the actions on her other leg, then washed the back of her thighs and up, over her ass.

 

She trembled beneath the touch, but he felt nothing of fear. Instead, lust had started to grow inside of her, a want she didn't care to admit to, but one he could feel from her.

 

“Should I keep going?”

 

Her nod was quick.

 

“Alright. Why don’t you sit on the edge of the bed.”

 

She followed the direction, lowering herself to sitting, knees together, bottom lip between her teeth.

 

Vadim wrung the washcloth off before getting it wet again. He went to her and knelt in front of her again.

 

He took the rag and slid it against her the seam of her thighs, not pressing her legs apart but coaxing her to spread them, instead. After a moment she did so, legs parting slowly.

 

Vadim moved the rag, wiping the insides of her thighs. For a moment, it reminded him of the night after Vic, when he couldn’t bring himself to clean her there. He shook his head to clear it before continuing the action. He cleaned up to the crease where her thigh met her crotch before repeating the action on her other leg.

 

When he reached the crease the second time, Fahr let out a blatantly tempting moan, that she tried to cut short.

 

He chuckled. “Can I keep going?”

 

“Yes. Fuck, please keep going, Vadim.”

 

He used the washcloth to wipe over her slit, then repeated the action to draw a whimper from her. “I want to put this rag down and touch you, Fahr, with my fingers. Are you okay with that?”

 

She drew in a deep breath, but he was glad when she didn’t answer right away, when she thought it over. “Yeah. Just, don’t put your fingers inside me.”

 

Not a surprise, and not a hardship. “I won’t.”

 

She leaned forward to kiss him, a gentle stroke of her lips against his, before she pulled back. “Okay. Yeah.”

 

He set the rag down, and scooted closer to her. The first touch of his skin against hers had them both sucking in a deep breath, his finger sliding along her cunt in a light stroke. Her legs fell open more at the touch.

 

But Vadim didn’t give her too long to think, because sometimes she managed to think herself right into upset. Instead, he gathered her wetness on his thumb and drug his fingers to her clit. In his position, it was an easy task, with her spread out before him. He used his other hand to pull the hood of her clit back, but kept the touches light, teasing.

 

After a few moments, Fahr’s hips started to twitch, her breath coming faster. He increased the pressure of his fingers, rubbing up one side of her clit before stroking against her cunt, then on the other side of her clit. He teased her until her fingers curled into the blanket, soft moans on her lips.

 

“Can I taste you?”

 

Her fingers wrapped behind his head and pulled his face closer. He took it as a yes, so leaned in and replaced his fingers with his tongue. He kept the touch gentle, careful not to press his tongue into her, now using both hands to keep her spread for him, to give him unfettered access. 

 

She shook beneath his touch, twisting from it, but kept her hand behind his head, like she was afraid he’d escape. Like hell he’d pull away. The only thing that would make him stop was if she asked him to, and he could only pray she didn’t do that.

 

Her hips lifted against him, subtle thrusts that ground his tongue against her. They made him want to slide into her, but he kept himself still, just using his tongue.

 

He wanted her to feel good, to associate sex with something good, again, to associate sex with him and something good. She needed to trust him, to know he wouldn't do something if she asked him not to. 

 

After another moment, her thighs closed around his ears as she came, nails biting into his scalp as she gasped in a breath. Her coming was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen, the flush that broke out over her chest and face, the way her could feel her cunt twitching, even without being inside her. 

 

As soon as her legs relaxed, he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. He had to finish cleaning after anyway.

 

She shuddered, her breath hard and fast as she scooting back a little on the bed, pulling her knees together. 

 

“Are you okay?” He asked the question carefully, not rising still.

 

She nodded. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to come again. After Vic, I thought he’d killed that in me.”

 

He pressed a kiss to her knee. “He couldn’t kill any part of you, Fahr. You were far too tough for him.”

 

Her gaze drifted down, and he doubted there was any chance she’d miss the erection straining against his pants. Her own fear jumped up as she nodded, voice shaken. “What about you?”

 

He shook his head and moved away from her. “Why don’t you dress and head down? I need to finish my washing anyway.”

 

She pulled a new set of clothing on in a rush, gaze away, the start of shame in her. Even without her speaking, he could read her. The fact she couldn't reciprocate yet shamed her, made her feel upset. A step forward was not far enough for that woman, for someone who was always trying to prove herself. 

 

Vadim caught her arm, then slid a hand behind her neck. “We have time, Fahr. We do not need to rush. I enjoyed this, and I hope you did, too.”

 

“Yeah, I did.”

 

He kissed her cheek before releasing her. “Good. Besides, if we got any more carried away, we’d be late for dinner. Go on, I will be down in a few minutes.”

 

Fahr left, leaving him alone in the room, alone with the memory of how she’d looked spread out on that bed, of her taste that still lingered on his tongue, of all the things he didn't think he could ever forget. 

 

There was no need to rush, but that didn’t erase his eagerness for whatever was next.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Deacon clapped his hand as he set up the chairs near the wall, then signaled Haylen to sit.

 

“This seems. . . unwise.” Vadim crossed his arms, but no one listened to him.

 

Dinner had passed without incident and little conversation. Just after dinner, Deacon had decided on a game, causing eyerolls from both Danse and Haylen.

 

It seemed Deacon played his games often.

 

Deacon all but skipped around as he took orange cones and placed long sticks in each, then wrapped rope around them to create a square.

 

“What is that?” Haylen asked the question from her chair.

 

“This? It’s a cage. You can’t have a cage fight without a cage.”

 

“It is not a cage, it is a rope and some sticks.” Danse rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, but his lips tipped up at the corners. “And I don’t think we need a cage fight.”

 

“Well, Nora took out the Combat Zone, so this is the best we can do. I want to see Danse and Fahr, toe to toe, one night only, who will emerge victorious?” He cupped his hands around his mouth to call out the words dramatically.

 

“I am not going to fight her.” Danse has the same tone one used when arguing with a toddler, the one that said you shouldn’t have to say whatever you are saying.

 

“Why not? Afraid you can’t hold your own?” Deacon cocked up an eyebrow, face all mockery.

 

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

 

“I would be, but I’ve seen her fight. She fights dirty.”

 

Danse reached out and snagged Deacon, pulling him up against him then leaning closer. “You are supposed to be on my side.” Danse leaned down and kissed Deacon, and there went any question Vadim had about the three of them, didn’t it? After a moment, Danse pulled back, a smile on his lips as Deacon followed him to continue the kiss.

 

Then Deacon seemed to wake up, tossing Danse a glare before strolling over to sit beside Haylen. “Well, clearly I can be bought, so I won’t be keeping score.”

 

Vadim shook his head and repeated himself. “This is not a good idea.”

 

Fahr did not need to fight a full-grown man like this. With her history, it seemed unwise. How could allowing a man to potentially hit her be a good idea? This was the last thing she needed, but Vadim would never stop her, especially when she smiled as if it was the best idea she'd heard.

 

Fahr laughed and slid beneath the rope, into the cage. “Relax, Vadim. I could use some sparring. Haven’t had a good fight in a while.”

 

Danse seemed less sure. “I don’t wish to hurt you.”

 

“Trust me, I wouldn’t worry about that too much, tin can.” Fahr rolled her shoulders, then stretched her arms above her head.

 

“Hey, I call him that, too!” Deacon wrapped an arm around Haylen.

 

“Great minds think alike?”

 

“Yeah, but I think this is a case of assholes thinking alike.”

 

Vadim took a seat beside Deacon, sure that Haylen wouldn’t want him beside her. She was better than she had been, looking so much stronger than that shaking woman he’d seen the night Nate died, but her reaction to him was clear.

 

So, he’d made sure to keep his distance. The last thing he wanted was to upset her. Seeing her that night had reminded him of Fahr. He’d stood there, dumbstruck, on the outskirts so no one noticed him, thinking of the past, of how Fahr had cowered.

 

And once again, a man not prone to violence, Vadim had wanted to kill Nate himself.

 

Not that he’d been needed. It seemed these women took care of the men who hurt them well enough on their own. Haylen had stabbed Nate and Nora had finished him off. Even Fahr had stabbed Vic. If Hancock hadn’t stepped in, Fahr may have ended him as well.

 

“You okay there?” Deacon asked the question, that teasing tone that said he was trying not to be real.

 

“Yes. Just thinking.”

 

“I highly suggest not doing that. Thinking never leads to anything good.” Deacon pulled Haylen against his side. He leaned in and whispered to her, drawing a grin from her.

 

So happy, those two. Would Vadim get there with Fahr? In some ways, Fahr had come so much further, having had years to recover, to grow on her own. Haylen? Haylen had been shoved into having a new mate immediately.

 

Danse managed to look nearly as dangerous even outside of his power armor, with the bulk and size he carried. He was larger than Vadim, with more clear musculature honed from fighting and training. Vadim had strength from work, but not like Danse.

 

Fahr and Danse circled each other, first, exchanging half-hearted blows to test skills and defenses. This he could handle.

 

The first real hit, though?

 

When Danse caught Fahr in the cheek with a pulled punch? Only Deacon setting a hand on Vadim’s arm kept him sitting.

 

“Danse knows how to spar for fun. He won’t hurt her.”

 

Sure enough, Fahr recovered and moved fast, a strike to his side, in his ribs. Danse sucked in a breath, pinning that arm to his side. They traded blows, both smiling and breathing hard after the first few.

 

Vadim lost himself in the motions, in the exchange, in the happiness in the link. Fahr had needed this. It reminded him, she wasn’t the woman from before. She needed action, she thrived on this, on the struggle and the violence and the pain. Those things defined her now and the reveled in them.

 

And, damn, she was good. He’d heard about her, saw the wariness in others eyes, but to see even a fraction of it?

 

He hated to admit. . . he liked it. Did that make him broken? How could he like that about her? How could he like who she’d been forced to become?

 

Danse landed a strike to her jaw, then twisted them both, taking her to the ground and pinning her with his weight. Vadim stood, unable to help the concern at his mate on the ground beneath a larger man.

 

Her hand came down to slap the floor, and Danse was off her in a heartbeat, helping her to her feet with a hand.

 

“That was a dirty move,” Fahr said and laughed as she rolled her shoulder.

 

“Yes, it was, but you were thinking of using the same move, weren’t you?”

 

She grinned before offering a soft punch to Danse’s arm. “Oh yeah.”

 

“Come on, you’re okay.” Deacon’s voice drew the attention of all three.

 

He’d slid from his chair, crouching in front of Haylen, fingers grasping her chin.

 

She’d gone pale, fear stark in those eyes of hers.

 

Right. With her past, perhaps watching a man hit a woman, even if it was sparing, hadn’t been the best plan. Or, perhaps, that’s one reason Deacon had done it, for her as well, to help her?

 

Fahr moved over the rope in a quick jump before kneeling in front of Haylen. “Come on. Let’s go outside, huh?”

 

Haylen nodded, taking Fahr’s hand and letting the larger woman lead her outside. Haylen’s gaze stayed off Danse, and there was no way to miss the hurt and worry on his face.

 

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Danse snapped.

 

“We both know she needed it. She needs to address her fear of your aggression. This was a safe way to see it.”

 

“You used my mate for your own games?” Vadim pulled his shoulders back, the action making him far larger than Deacon.

 

Danse moved between them. “None of that. You know as well as I do that Fahr wanted to spar, so no one used her.” He rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Come along. Haylen and Fahr can talk, and we can drink.”

 

#

 

Fahr took a seat on the walkway of the walls built around the police station, with Haylen sitting beside her.

 

“You know what I’ve learned? Breathing is necessary.”

 

Haylen sucked in a breath and shuddered. “Sorry.”

 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Trust me, I’ve had my share of panic attacks. That shit happens. The assholes name was Nate, yeah?”

 

Haylen nodded, crossing her legs and leaning forward. “Yes. He was my mate.”

 

“Sometimes biology is a bitch, huh? Heard you and Nora killed the asshole.”

 

“Nora did.”

 

“That’s not the story I heard. If you hadn’t stabbed him, he’d have killed Nora. You might not have taken the killing shot, but you took him down, too.”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

Fahr nodded, legging her legs dangle over the walkway. “It sure as fuck does. Every time you start feeling like you can’t do this, every time you think about him, I want you to remember that shit. You killed him. After everything, you came out on top. You’re here and he isn’t. Take that and brand the shit on your chest, but don’t ever forget it. You outlived him.”

 

Haylen remained silent for a moment. “What was his name?”

 

“What?”

 

“You think I can’t tell when someone is talking from experience?”

 

Fahr couldn’t help the chuckle. Yeah, Vadim was right. The woman was tougher than she seemed. “Vic. Mayor of Goodneighbor.”

 

“I thought Hancock was the mayor.”

 

“Hancock is now, but there was one before him. Hancock got rid of him. He wasn’t my mate, just an asshole.”

 

“And now you’re with Vadim?”

 

“And now you’re with two men?”

 

Haylen laughed, seeming to have relaxed a bit. “Deacon is my biological mate. Danse is a synth, which I think is the only reason I didn’t bond with him. So, the three of us make it work. I used to think that nature was wrong, that it just wanted to screw me over.”

 

“And now?”

 

“And now, I think maybe there is some stupid plan. If I hadn’t bonded with Nate, I’d never have been in a position to find Deacon. Danse and I might never have moved forward and I wouldn’t be here, with both of them, and that’s what is right, what fits. Sometimes the way to what we want and what we need is straight through the fire.”

 

Fahr frowned as she listened, as the words slid through her. What she right? Fahr considered who she was before Vic, and wondered. . . would that girl have fit with Vadim at all? She’d been funny, flirtatious, a great many things that had been burned out of her through the years.

 

What would Vadim think of that girl compared to the woman she’d grown into?

 

Instead of that, Fahr found herself asking Haylen a question she hadn’t meant to. “How do you move on? How did you settle in with Deacon and Danse? After Nate, after all of that, how could you?”

 

“You saw my little meltdown in there. Things aren’t ever linear. I’m not all better, but they help, as much as they can. At the end of the day, I decided Nate had stolen too much from me already. I wasn’t going to give him another moment. It’s not easy, and I lose my nerve, but they’re always there to help me, to remind me that they aren’t Nate, and it gets easier all the time.”

 

It sounded so simple. She’d made the choice and then moved forward. Could Fahr do that? Could she just let go of all the bullshit in her head? Could she put that all behind her?

 

If she could do it with anyone, it would be Vadim.

 

#

 

Vadim took the beer Deacon offered, his arm on the table.

 

Deacon set another in front of Danse, then took one for himself and sat at the table. “Nights like these happen. If I can give you any advice, it’s that. Nights like these? The ones where you wonder if you can ever help her, if you’re doing any good at all, if you’re enough to walk through this shit, they happen.”

 

“So you know about her?”

 

“Not everything. It’s been my business to know things, and Goodneighbor has been a place I spend a lot of time. Her history has been mentioned from time to time, enough to know it’s not too different from Haylen’s.”

 

Vadim didn’t care for either man knowing anything about Fahr. Not because he was disappointed, or ashamed, but because it should be her choice to tell people. She should be the one to tell people, or not to tell them. Her painful history being common knowledge was something she’d never want, so it bothered him.

 

Still, it was hard to turn down the advice. Yefim was a good listener, but he lacked understanding, either as a mate or as helping a woman who had suffered. Deacon and Danse had that understanding.

 

“I believe the most difficult part is that she blames herself.” His voice was low, soft. “It does not matter what I say, she still feels guilt, still hates the scars she carries. I don't know how to respond, what the right thing to say is.”

 

Danse was the one to respond. “Haylen is the same. I think it is sometimes easier to blame ourselves. She can’t fight Nate, he’s gone, so she only has herself to fight with. It gets better, slowly.”

 

“What helped?”

 

“Well a certain handsome, charming, gentleman really turned the tides. I’d offer to help but Fahr would destroy me.” Deacon grinned, his wink lacking any heat.

 

“I am not one to share.”

 

“Your loss, buddy.” Deacon took a drink of his beer. “Look, I won’t sugar-coat this. It’s a hard thing, but I’ve seen the two of you together, and you can handle it.”

 

The front door opened, and all three turned their gazes. Fahr walked in, Haylen just behind her. Fahr nodded her head toward the stairs with a wink before going up them.

 

The look in her eyes, the lust in the link, gave Vadim no question about what she was interested in. He was on his feet before he’d thought about it.

 

Deacon’s chuckle followed Vadim. “But then again, you might be out of your league with her.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Vadim walked into the room Fahr and he were using to find her on the bed and really naked. He stumbled once, attention on the woman in front of him rather than where his feet were going.

 

He caught himself on the dresser. “So much for a smooth entrance.”

 

She smiled, the action softening her face. “I don’t need smooth, Vadim. I just need you. Get naked and come here, please.”

 

Despite his reservations, Vadim followed the request. He pulled his shirt up and over his head, throwing it over a chair in the corner. He toed his shoes off, then unbuttoned his pants, pulling them off along with his underwear and socks.

 

It left him entirely naked in front of her, but hadn’t he really always been? She managed to pull away any defenses he had no matter what.

 

“We do not have to do this. I am not in a rush.” He sat on the foot of the bed, facing her.

 

Fahr moved forward until she sat just in front of him, her hand going to his thigh. “I talked to Haylen, and she reminded me that I don’t want to let Vic win. I don’t want to give him anything else, not a single nother day of mine. I’ve had a long time to move past what happened, and I’m ready.”

 

Vadim leaned in, his hands on either side of her face. “We will stop at any time. If you change your mind, if you no longer want me, if you just need to slow, you will tell me and we will stop, yes?”

 

She leaned in closer, offering a soft kiss, breaking it to speak between. “Yes. I promise. Hurry up, now.”

 

Vadim smiled, sliding his hand to the back of her neck to deepen their kiss. He licked into her mouth, coaxing, teasing, trying to tempt her. Fahr pushed at his shoulders, maneuvering him until he laid on his back.

 

She straddled him, thighs pressing against his sides, solid body on top of his, hands skimming over his chest. She reached one hand between them and grasped his cock.

 

Vadim arched up into the touch, his hand going to her thigh in a tight grasp. “Wait,” he groaned out. “Wait. You are not ready.”

 

“I’ve waited long enough.”

 

He shook his head. “I am not turning you down, but you won’t enjoy this if you’re not ready. I want you to enjoy this. It’s important.”

 

She stroked him once more before releasing him.

 

Vadim licked his fingers, using his saliva to wet them, before reaching between them and stroking her clit. His other hand ran up her rib cage and cupped her breast. “You are so beautiful,” he said, the words coming out softly.

 

His mate didn’t care for sweet talk, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to kiss every part of her body, to worship each nook, each inch. He wanted to do it until she listened, until she believed him, until she understood how he saw her.

 

“Would you shut up?”

 

He quickened his fingers. “No. I will repeat this, I will tell you exactly how wonderful you are over and over until you finally believe it. Can I put my fingers inside you? Are you okay with that?”

 

She nodded, her hips starting to move.

 

He moved his fingers further between her legs, hooking two fingers up, sliding them into her heat, while his thumb stroked her clit. He didn’t move the fingers inside her. “Is that okay?”

 

Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip before she pressed her hands onto his chest and lifted her hips, riding his fingers.

 

“Come on, beautiful. Speak to me.”

 

She nodded. “Yes, it’s okay. Stop telling me I’m beautiful. I don’t need to be romanced.”

 

He rubbed her clit faster, helping to thrust into her with his fingers. “You do need romance, Fahr, you just do not know how to accept it. You will, though, because I will keep telling you these things.”

 

She grew wet as she rode his fingers. Her breath sped, harsh and broken, sweat beading on her brow.

 

He slowed the touch when she neared her climax. “The last time, you tightened so much when you came. It might make sex more difficult. We can do this instead, though. We don’t need to do more.”

 

She reached between them, grasping his wrist. “Stop. I want you, Vadim. All of you.”

 

He pulled his fingers from her, the wetness on his fingers, strung between them, catching the light. He brought those fingers to his lips and licked them clean as she watched, a soft moan on her lips.

 

She moved off him, stretching beside him, facing him, moving her leg over his hip. “I don’t think I can handle you on top of me,” she admitted.

 

He pulled her closer, into a gentle kiss. “That is understandable. This is fine; more than fine.” He pulled her thigh to angle her better, his hand then moving between them to grasp himself and line up. “You are sure?”

 

“Yes, I’m sure.”

 

He fit himself against her folds, the heat and wetness so tempting. His forehead pressed against hers, eyes sliding closed as he pushed his hips forward.

 

He sunk into her slowly, his hand moving to her hip to steady her. She winced when he was half way in, so he stilled.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Her arm slid below his arm, over his side. “Yeah. It stings.”

 

“Just relax. We are almost there, yes?”

 

She brushed her lips against his, a shudder before she loosened around him. He moved his hips forward again, sinking in the rest of the way.

 

Her tongue darted out, sliding along the seam of his lips. “More,” she whispered.

 

And Vadim would never be able to resist such a request. His hand flexed on her hip as he pulled out and thrust back into her. The rhythm he set was slow, lazy, and he used his lips against hers, then her jaw and her throat, each kiss a way to tell her this mattered, that she mattered.

 

Her leg tightened around him, trying to drive him to go harder, but he refused. This had to be more than just sex, for them both. Perhaps in the future they could give into simple, mindless lust. Not this time, though, not their first time. He released her hip and moved his arm down, below her thigh, so he could reach her clit again.

 

Her head arched back, exposing the column of her throat. His lips pressed against it, and she tensed.

 

He stilled. “Are you okay?”

 

“Don’t bite me."

 

He pressed a kiss to the skin. “I won’t.” His lips moved along her throat, soft kisses to erase the memory of teeth in her skin from before. She relaxed after the first few, and before long her hips began to move with him again.

 

He stroked her, bringing her back to that edge, until her nails dug into him as she tried to get more. He moved his fingers faster, so damn close himself. “Come on. Let go, won’t you?” He leaned in to take her earlobe between his lips, careful to not even scrap it with his teeth. At the same time, he squeezed his fingers down on her clit.

 

She came, leg tightening around him, cunt squeezing down so tight he had to suck in a deep breath to hold off. She pulsed around his cock, tightening in waves.

 

He pulled his hand from between them and ran his fingers through her hair, whispering things into her ear until she settled down. He pulled himself from her and her nails dug into him as she whimpered.

 

“You haven’t come,” she said when he tried to pull away.

 

“I can’t, not inside of you. We are not ready for children.” Even as he said it, he struggled to mean it. What he wanted was to slide back into her, to fill her with his seed, to watch his children grow inside her. But, they were not ready. It was not time for that, not yet at least.

 

Fahr moved her legs together, instead, and grasped his cock. She fit it against the tight seam of her thighs. “Like this, then.”

 

He groaned at the feeling, grasping her hip and thrusting between her legs. The wetness still on him from her made the slide easier, and he buried his face in her neck as he ground against her. Her smell soaked into him, the link, all of it. It only took a few thrusts before he came, and this time he didn’t hold it back. He shuddered against her, spilling between her thighs, clutching her against him until his breathing slowed.

 

Vadim pulled back after a moment, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Are you okay? Was that okay?”

 

Fahr smiled, and it ease Vadim. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m more than okay.”

 

#

 

After they both cleaned up, they settled into the bed to sleep. Vadim pulled her against his chest, the weight of his arm comforting, helping to ground her. Finally having sex was. . . unnerving. She'd expected it to be some huge thing, to change everything, but it didn't feel that way. She felt the same as she had before, no worse but no better. 

 

There was some happiness, that she wasn't allowing Vic to control her anymore, to let her live in fear. Other than that though, she was just her, and he was just Vadim, and it hadn't fixed her or changed her. 

 

He tightened his grip, probably because he could sense her feelings. He didn't talk about them, though, didn't pry. Instead, he whispered, “You are beautiful."

 

Fahr brought her elbow backward, striking him in the side. His sharp intake of breath made her smile. “You already got my pants off. You don’t need to sweet talk me anymore.”

 

He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck before settling behind her. “I believe I will always sweet talk you. Perhaps it will keep your pants off?”

 

Fahr laughed at his stupid fucking joke, and at the fact that she knew he was serious. He would spend the all their years sweet talking her, and telling her everything he liked about her, and that he wanted her.

 

And right then?

 

She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

 


End file.
